


The Rest of the Story: A What If It's Us Sequel

by TeacherLady215



Category: What If It's Us - Becky Albertalli & Adam Silvera
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Graduation, Hamilton References, In the Heights References, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Manhattan, Minor Character Death, Monogamy, Moving In Together, Musicals, New York City, Post-Graduation, Queer Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 90,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25854262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeacherLady215/pseuds/TeacherLady215
Summary: Arthur is graduating from Wesleyan and Ben decides to surprise him. Arthur has some surprises about his Big City plans after graduation for Ben, too! Will this finally be their moment? Can they find the best of what they could possibly be?
Relationships: Ben Alejo/Arthur Seuss
Comments: 14
Kudos: 12





	1. Part 1: When You're Home

**Author's Note:**

> I obviously don't own these wonderful gentlemen and give all the credit for the source material to Becky Albertalli and Adam Silvera. There are many direct references to the original story, so if you haven't read it, you'll be a bit lost.

**Arthur** _– Saturday, May 27 th, 2023: Graduation Day at Wesleyan University_

Holy Fucking Shitballs! I. AM. GRADUATING TODAY! Today is the day which unleashes me upon the world to do my damnedest to adult appropriately (hopefully with a certain someone). This thought is both terrifyingly laughable and unbelievably cool!

A text comes in on my phone from Jessie:

Jessie: **[CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU!]**

There is a picture of her already on the bleachers of the stadium next to my parents who are shooting thumbs ups to the camera. Another text comes in:

Jessie: **[We also have a surprise for you! *winky emoji***

Me: **[Is it a good one? *tongue out winky emoji***

Jessie: **[ So. Good.]**

Another text comes in, this time from Ethan, it is a picture of him in his cap and gown. UVA is also having their commencement ceremony today. Major boo since we can’t be at each other’s graduations, but he looks happy. This is a major improvement over his Rent video a few years ago. He’s doing really well and I’m happy for him.

Me: **[Congrats, my dude!]**

I send off my own cap and gown selfie. I have to get going or I’m going to be late to line up. One more text comes in before I stuff my phone in the pants pocket of my black slacks under my graduation gown.

Ben: **[Congrats, Best Friend. I hope today is better than you ever imagined!]**

I smile like an idiot. Against all odds and in the face of pretty severe adversity, we have actually stayed in touch… and more… during our college years. I send him a quick reply:

Me: **[Wish you were here! *Kissing heart emoji*]**

I rush out of my semi-packed dorm to meet my second favorite group of people (my 17th Birthday group will never be surpassed). The Quasimodal Seniors are all waiting outside my building. We are performing today in the ceremony so we have to sit together in the front row, which means we lead the entire class into the stadium.

“Come ON, Art! We are cutting it VERY close!” Abigail chastises me. Abby is our Quasi President and does her very best teacher voice to make sure we all have our shit together.

“Sorry! Endless texts from friends and family!” I sigh as we all make our way to the football field in the center of campus. Today is an especially lovely day for a graduation. 70 degrees, sunny, and a bit of a breeze. I am so fucking happy as we come to our places in line and Abby pulls out her pitch pipe.

“Okay, friends. Last time,” she reminds us, eyes glassy as she gives us our B flat. We do a few warmup scales and the first verse of the song to ensure that our harmonies are tight. While a capella hasn’t always been a walk in the park, and that thing with Mikey was a definite low point for me, I have all my best memories with my Quasi-crew. I’m seriously going to miss them, but I have some pretty epic plans for the next chapter in my life.

All ten of us snap to attention as the opening notes to “Pomp and Circumstance” are played by the orchestra. We process ceremonially into the stadium beneath all of our family and friends who are in the bleachers cheering loudly for us which is causing some emotion to build up in my throat. We did it. We made it. We are here, finally!

The Quasis and I have our stage presence brains turned on right now, so where everyone else is turning around and waving at friends and family in the audience, we are sitting still, tall, and quiet. A couple of people make opening remarks and then we are up. We file on stage, Abby gives us our pitch, and we’re off. We absolutely fucking rock our mash-up arrangement of “Don’t You Forget about Me” and “We are Young”. As we finish and take our signature double bow, I allow myself to hunt Mom, Dad, and Jessie in the crowd, but I don’t see them first. I see a head of light brown hair popping up above the crowd. He is smirking and whispering to Jessie who points wildly and waves. My fellow tenor, Jackson, has to nudge me to start following the basses off stage. They are already halfway down the stairs. My cheeks heat to a bright tomato color and I feel like I’m literally picking my jaw up off the stage as we return to our seats.

Once we are seated and another speaker is droning on about our futures, Jackson taps my arm and whispers, “Yo, you okay?”

Jackson is probably the best college friend I have. Nothing like I have with Ethan or Jess, and especially not like Ben, but he’s a good guy. Very straight but very supportive and cool as a human being. Because he’s heard me talk about him (pretty much non-stop), he knows what I mean when I whisper, “Ben is here!” as quietly as I can muster in the moment. I blush another full shade of deeper red. He smiles and pats my shoulder. I have to remind myself purposely to take everything about today in because all I seem to be able to do is think about Ben’s gaze boring holes in the back of my head. His presence incites a magnetic pull toward him that I have to physically stop myself from giving in to.

I have only been back to the city once since that summer. My parents sent me back to NYC for my 21st birthday before school started this year WITH two tickets to Hamilton. FINALLY! They also booked a hotel stay for a long weekend with instructions to invite whoever I’d like (even though they were pretty sure they knew who I’d be inviting). My blush deepens again as I recall the weekend we spent together. Neither of us were involved with anyone else so we were completely free to involve ourselves with one another as much as we wanted. Aside from going out to dinner with Dylan and Samantha and then going to the show, we spent most of the rest of the weekend in the luxurious hotel suite (free upgrades FTW!) doing decidedly “non-platonic bro” things.

As my class lines up to walk the stage, there is a slight delay, giving me just enough time to look back and catch his eyes. I blow him a kiss which he “catches” and holds against his chest and I am beaming like the sun as I look forward and follow the line. I walk, I shake hands, I smile for a picture, and we turn our tassels. I really hope someone is streaming this somewhere because I won’t remember a damn thing about this day except that we ROCKED our performance and Ben has come to surprise and support me. I am flying pretty high right now.

We are announced as official graduates of Wesleyan University Class of 2023 and we recess out of the stadium. My stomach is all aflutter and my eyes are locked on Ben’s the entire way to the exit. The pride shining in his eyes brings that thick emotion back to my throat as I head into the tunnel with my class.

**Ben**

Early this morning, I grabbed my small duffle bag I packed for the weekend and caught an Amtrak to Middletown, CT. It took about two hours and when I got to the station I requested a Lyft to take me to Wesleyan which is about a 20 minute drive. Arthur’s graduation starts at 10 and it is only 9AM. It feels like such a win to be able to show up for him today and on time at that! I text Jessie when I am dropped at the campus and ask where to meet her. She tells me she is with Arthur’s parents in the 3rd row.

As I navigate the campus, I find myself wondering where Arthur is right this second. I shoot him a text to keep up pretenses because Arthur does not know I’m here. I am so excited to see him. He and I haven’t really talked next steps and we aren’t officially dating again, but there is definitely a “waiting for each other” vibe happening. I am praying to God and the Universe that this is our moment to finally have everything we’ve wanted since we were seventeen. We’ve each dated a couple of other guys, and we were always open with each other about those relationships, but, mine at least, were in no way serious. I never even slept with them because it didn’t feel right if I couldn’t give myself in the same way I gave to Arthur or even Hudson. I still don’t regret Hudson, but I know Arthur and I are destined, fated, whatever you want to call it, and I honestly think me dating Hudson was meant to bring Arthur and I together. Throughout this long season of being mostly apart, he and I have rarely gone two weeks without at least a quick check in, but more often than not, we were intentional about calling every other week or more for a solid FaceTime.

As I’m walking into the stadium I receive Arthur’s reply and think to myself _Just you wait._

When I get to the stands, I find Jessie and Arthur’s parents quickly and give them all hugs. Shortly after that the class begins to process in. Arthur is near the front of the line so I see him immediately, but he’s in his hyper-focus mode. I know he is performing today so he probably won’t notice me until he is able to relax a bit.

Jessie makes small talk and Arthur’s parents ask how I’ve been as the rest of the graduating class files in. I can’t stop staring at the back of his head as he stands straight and tall in the front row. He is adorable when he’s “On” for performances. It has been incredibly cool to watch him come into his own as a performer and as a man watching the videos of his Quasimodal performances at ICCA competitions.

Arthur hasn’t added any real height since our summer together, but he’s gained quite a bit of muscle which I especially noticed this past fall when he came to the city for his birthday. Just thinking about that weekend makes my mouth go dry. He only even got two drinks while he was there: a margarita in the commemorative _Hamilton_ cup from the Richard Rogers, and a fruity mixed drink when we went out to dinner with Dylan and Samantha at TGIFridays. Seeing _Hamilton_ together was everything we hoped it would be. It was as heartfelt and epic as the first time I listened to the soundtrack with Arthur. When the show was over and they did their curtain call, we both stood up before anyone else and cheered SO loud.

The day after the show, I tried to convince him that we had an epic do over at our disposal for him to do all the super touristy things we had wanted to do on our last full day together that summer but couldn’t because of my stupid exam. Each time I brought it up, though, he’d make a comment about how he’d rather be a “tourist of Ben Alejo’s body” or something equally cheesy and off we went. I was finally able to get him to go out on his last morning in town and we went to the top of the Empire State Building just to spend a little more time making out and get an epic Instagram photo.

The ceremony gets going and Art's performance is pretty early. God he’s amazing as he sings proudly and steps in time. There’s not a lot of choreography but there are more vocal acrobatics throughout the group than one of their usual arrangements. Arthur has a solo which transitions one song into the other and I am so unbelievably turned on by him. I have to remind myself purposely that his parents are about 5 feet from me. When they finish the performance and are taking their bows, he looks my way. I smile, unsure if he’s seen me, but he definitely knows because he’s just standing, mouth agape, and has to be nudged by the tall dark-skinned boy next to him to get moving again. I chuckle under my breath and whisper to Jessie, “He knows”. She beams and points at me like a crazy fangirl. When Arthur is back in his seat, I can feel our desire to be in each other’s arms like a cord tugging me from my core as if my soul is calling out for him across the physical expanse.

My urge to leap over the railing and run to him is something I have to physically repress as Arthur’s adorable face beams up at me with glee while his class streams from the stadium.

I am so incredibly proud of him. He’s expressed a lot of frustration with a capella and told me repeatedly how much he misses “the city”, especially since his birthday. He stuck it out and I know that was super stressful, as senior year is for everyone, but now he has graduated Summa Cum Laude from the alma mater of Lin-Manuel Miranda. Now we can see what there is to an us. I have missed him so much.

As we get up to walk out of the stadium once the procession is gone, a text buzzes my phone:

Arthur: **[Get your adorable fucking self out here and kiss me you beautiful surprise of a man!]**

Once we are outside (FINALLY!) I immediately spot his acapella group as they are all hugging and crying and point them out to Jessie and his parents. They don’t seem to have the same built in Arthur detecting proximity tracker that I do. His parents reach him and wrap him in a Seuss family group hug first. His mom hands Jessie her phone and makes her take several pictures. In the last one, Arthur leans over and kisses her cheek and Mara beams like the happiest woman in the world. Next is Jessie and Mara is taking pictures as they hug and pose. Finally, his sparkling blue eyes are aimed at me and my stomach does a double somersault as he lets go of Jessie and turns to me. I step toward him and loop my arms around his waist as he lifts his up around my neck and I pull him in for a tight full-body hug.

“Picture!” his mom says, and we turn and smile. Once she’s taken her fill, I pull him back in for another hug and lean down and whisper in his ear, “Congratulations Arthur. I’m so proud of you.”

“ Thanks,” he sniffs against my chest then tilts his head up pressing a light kiss to my lips. He nuzzles his nose against mine and then, with as much difficulty as it is for me to let him go, he pulls away but keeps an arm around me. “I’m going to take some pictures with the Quasis, we’re doing Perk on Main for lunch right?” he asks Jessie and his parents.

They nod and Jessie says, “Why don’t we go get a table? You can meet us there.”

**Arthur**

I am high-fiving Jessie in my mind as she walks off with my parents. I turn to Ben and say, “I’m commandeering you. You can be my photographer.” He smiles shyly and I grin as I lift up and kiss him again, unable to help myself. “I’m sorry, is this okay?” I ask, feeling badly for not having thought to make sure.

He cups my cheek in one hand. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t extrotally okay with you kissing me.” We both laugh. “Come on, let’s get your pictures taken. I want my best friend back,” he says, imploring me with his eyes to understand his meaning (I do).

Do you know what’s especially difficult? Organizing a large group of seniors into a picture perfect arrangement on graduation day with any quickness because the love of my life is smiling that sweet crooked smile at me and wearing a shirt I had made for him under his open button down. For Christmas, I sent him a t-shirt printed with a commissioned illustration of Ben-Jamin and King Arturo drawn by Samantha. I also ordered one for me because it was such a [great shirt](https://www.redbubble.com/i/t-shirt/The-Wicked-Wizard-War-by-allarica/36002466.IJ6L0.XYZ)! 

We finally finish taking pictures and I give everyone one last hug. No matter how much I want to get Ben alone and jump him right now, I have to take these final moments of college in. I won’t be able to get them back and if all goes to plan, Ben and I will have a nice long time to spend together. Ben waits patiently and once I’ve hugged and waved goodbyes to the last of them, I feel his strong arms come around me from behind. His lips lay a whisper of a kiss on my neck.

“You ready?” Ben asks.

I swipe at a last tear that has escaped down my cheek and nod. I don’t know how he got here, but we have some serious talking to do. But first, lunch with the fam. I turn in his arms and wrap him in a hug. “It is perfect that you’re here, Ben. I’ve missed you more than you know,” I tell him quietly. He holds me tighter, pressing his face into the crook of my neck. His breath against my skin is wildly intoxicating, but we have places to go. “Come on, my car is a bit of a walk away. You can tell me how it is that you’re here,” I say, sliding my hand into his.

We begin heading toward my car and I nudge him expectantly with my elbow. “I mean, you know I wanted to be here,” he tells me as his cheeks pinken. “It just so happened that I was able to trade enough shifts to string together a few days off from The Strand so I could make it happen.” He bites his lip and glances toward me. There’s more.

“I love that you’re here. I can’t even tell you how much, but are you here just as my best friend?” I prod.

Ben shakes his head. “I haven’t been with anyone else, Arthur. Not since or before your birthday. I’ve barely even gone on dates. I understand if you have any that I don’t know about, that was the point of letting you go. I didn’t want to hold you back.” He looks at me and my brow is furrowed in confusion at his complete obliviousness.

“Ben,” I sigh. “I spent almost exactly 4 years trying to run from, turn off, or kiss away my feelings for you. There have been dates, but none you don’t know about. I haven’t done more than some fooling around with any of them because they weren’t what I really wanted. No one holds a candle to you. I thought we made that pretty clear in August… no?”

Ben’s lips quirk into a smile. “You made a lot of things very clear, my Mighty Arturo.” He brings my hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to the back. I blush, again.

We reach my car and, after he tosses his duffle in the back, I pull him in for a couple of quick selfies before I take my cap and gown off. My cap is tilted to the side and Ben holds me from behind. _We are too precious_ , I think as I swoon at the pictures we’ve taken.

A text pops up on my screen from Jessie:

**[The wait is 20 minutes. Are you on your way?]**

I text back a quick affirmative reply and I unzip and strip out of my cap and gown to the sound of Ben’s whistle which makes me blush again. I toss my gown into the back and we both get in the car. From my cap, I take the tassle and hang it next to the red and blue one from high school which is hanging from my mirror.

I start the car and get it maneuvered out of the parking spot and onto the road leading off campus before I reach over where Ben’s hand is there to meet mine immediately.

“So, how have classes been? Are you done with exams? Sorry I missed your FaceTime the other night, I was literally passed out on top of my World Lit book in the library. It wasn’t cute.”

He chuckles. “It’s okay. I finished up on Wednesday. 1 A, 2 Bs, and a C,” he says with a hint of that proud smile on his lips.

“Ben, that’s amazing! I told you that you’d do well.” I grin at him, so incredibly proud at how successful he’s been in college. He still has one semester left and then he’ll graduate in December.

“I don’t know how amazing it is; Geology kicked my ass. I worked really hard for that 70%.”

“I know you did, but you haven’t gotten less than a C since your junior year. You only have, what, four classes left? You have come so far, Ben. In December, you will be an Alumnus of Hunter College of New York! Don’t sell yourself short on that accomplishment.” I take my job as hype-man for this incurably insecure boy very seriously. Helping him see himself through my eyes and pushing him toward his better instincts has been my favorite part of staying close with him.

Ben scrubs a hand over his face. “This semester is going to be a doozy. I’ll need all of the pneumonic devices you’ve got.”

I reassuringly squeeze his hand and say, “They are yours for the taking.”

We make it to the restaurant just as Jessie and my parents are being seated. As we eat a delicious lunch, Mom and Dad check in with Ben about Isabelle and Diego. He confirms they are well and Mom says, “That’s wonderful! We’ll all have to get together once Art is all settled in to his new place.”

Record scratch!

“Mom!” I admonish her. “I haven’t told him yet!”

“Oh honey, I’m sorry! I’ve spoiled the surprise,” she apologizes, contrite.

“Art? Are you moving into the city?” Ben asks, thinly veiled hope bursting in his eyes.

“I am. I was hoping we could drive up together tomorrow. I’m moving into a place in Hamilton Heights,” I tell him, biting my lip.

“Of course you found a place in Hamilton Heights, you beautiful man,” he grins and I swear he’s about to tear up. He reaches out and takes my hand securely in his.

“We’ll absolutely be making a trip up this summer and we’d love to get together with your parents again,” Mom reiterates.

Ben smiles at her, “They would love that.”

“Perfect, we’ll set it up.”

When we finish with lunch, Mom and Dad head back to their hotel with fairly lame excuses about having a “big moving day” tomorrow, but I’ll take the win of getting time alone with Ben. Jessie rides with us so we can drop her at her car.

**Ben**

As we drive back to campus, my mind is swimming in a sea of possibility. I make sure to get on my phone and cancel my train ticket and then I turn to catch up with Jessie about her plans.

“I’m heading to UVA to help Ethan pack up his stuff and take it home. We’re really starting to be able to get back to being good friends again,” she explains.

“That’s awesome. I’ve been there. It’s really great when you can rediscover that friendship,” I encourage.

We get her back to her car and we both jump out to hug her and wave her off. Arthur and I head into his building and I ask, “Is your roommate here?”

“He moved out Thursday after his last exam. He was a junior, so he didn’t stay for graduation.” Arthur smirks at the visible relaxation in my posture.

“So it’s just us tonight?” I ask quietly.

Arthur nods up at me, blue eyes sparkling with desire as he keys into his room. I head in and drop my bag as he shuts the door behind us. He drops his keys on the desk and pulls his wallet and phone out to join them. I wander around the small room, peeking in boxes. There are twins of everything. Two twin beds, two dressers, two desks with built in lamps, two larger wardrobes for hanging items. Only one of the beds is made, so it must be Arthur’s, and it is on risers with a small refrigerator and one of the dressers beneath it.

“So, New York?” I ask. I’m trying not to be a little hurt but I ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to surprise you this week. I had a whole scavenger hunt planned to get you to the new place.” He pouts deeply. “This surprise is so much better, but some serious man hours have been wasted in you not using this scavenger hunt.”

“Maybe we can use it on Dylan, Seussical,” I tease as I begin moving toward him.

“Maybe.” He smiles and makes his way toward me as well.

As we draw closer to one another, I see a nervous apprehension cloud Arthur’s gaze which pulls me up short from pretty promptly having my way with him. “You okay?” I ask, running a hand down his arm and taking his hand. “What is it?”

“Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” he shakes his head and clears his throat, putting a hand on my chest and looking up into my eyes. “I just want to make sure I’m not ambushing you by moving to the city. I really do have a great opportunity with Penguin working in their audiobook department, but I don’t want to be too presumptuous. I know you have school to finish and a life of your own.”

He chews on his lip and I take his perfect, beautiful face in my hands. “Arthur, I came here to see if there was any possibility of your coming to the city so that we can finally be together. This job, your new place, they are literal answers to my prayers. We both deserve to explore every bit of the relationship we know we could have. We are destined and the Universe is on our side again. I’ll never let you go again if I can help it.”

I press my lips firmly against his and his hands slide up my back in the way he knows drives my crazy. I cradle Arthur’s head in my hand and move to press him against the back wall of his room. I am unbuttoning and untucking his shirt and he is doing the same as our shoes fly off in unknown directions, but our lips never leave one another. We drag button downs down one another’s arms and let them fall to the floor. Arthur backs up for a breath and I seize the opportunity to kiss him along his jawline, down his neck, and across his chest. As my lips explore, Arthur’s breath hitches and he breathes my name as my hands make their way beneath his white tank top. You wouldn’t think a capella would do a body so much good, but all that breath control (none of which is on display now) does actually require pretty solid core strength. I push his shirt up exposing his whole chest and stomach. As I am sinking to my knees, leaving a trail of kisses along his happy trail, Arthur pauses me with a hand on my cheek.

“Can we move to the bed?” 

I stand and kiss him gently. “Of course, getting weak in the knees?” I ask as we pivot and kiss our way to his bed.

“Very,” he breathes against my mouth as he lifts onto the edge of his raised bed. I move closer so that I am positioned between his legs and he runs his fingers lightly over the outlines of our characters on my t-shirt. I wore this especially for him today, hoping he would notice. I guess he did. He slides his hands around behind me and lifts the bottom of my shirt, dragging his fingers along my back as he pulls it off. Once it has been dropped on the floor, I am again kissing Arthur insistently and wrapping my arms around his incredibly well-muscled back to lay him back onto the mattress. I am careful and we take our time getting back to all of the familiar places within one another, physically and emotionally. 

**Arthur**

Ben and I show one another in every way we know how and in no uncertain terms exactly how much love we still hold for one another for a full delicious hour. We rise and fall and are even more comfortable with one another than we had been during our honeymoon-style weekend in the hotel. Then, we were able to take the time we needed to acquaint ourselves with one another’s bodies fully. Our encounter in high school was the perfect first experience. Ben was gentle and we were both awkward, but in August, we both already knew we were safe with each other and so the pretense of “should we, or shouldn’t we?” was all but gone. We wanted each other, much the same way we want each other today.

“Thank you for always making me feel safe,” I say quietly as we lie curled together under the comforter.

“I never want you to feel uncomfortable, Art. I will always do everything in my power to make sure you feel safe and cared for, not just when we have sex, but especially then. You make me feel the same way with our system of signals and our language for each other. I know you’re always checking in with me, so I do the same for you.” He brushes his fingers through my hair and kisses me on the forehead.

“I just want you to know, for the future, while I may not be as…creative as other boys, if there’s something you want to try, please ask me. Okay? I want us to feel free to explore within our signals and language. That’s why we have them.” I don’t want him to feel held back by my lack of experience. I know he doesn’t have much more than I do, but more is more, and if there’s something he likes I want to know because I want to make him happy.

He nods. “I hear you, Art, but that presumes we’ll be doing more of this in the near future, I think regular encounters like this might be contingent on a conversation about commitment, yes?”

I catch his meaning immediately. If we’re going to have sex all the time, we should probably at least be boyfriends. However, I have something a little more solid in mind. “ Ben… I wanted to wait, but I guess I’ll just come out with it. Please be honest if I’m being absolutely crazy.” I breathe a deep uncertain breath, pressing my face into his chest.

Ben runs his fingers along my spine gently and murmurs against my hair, “What is it?”

I lift up and sit criss-crossed next to him as he lifts one arm behind his head looking like a painting of Adonis. I stare into his expectant gaze and ask, “I want you to be my boyfriend, but I also want more. I want you to be my partner. Would you ever consider moving in with me?” Ben’s eyebrows fly up his face and I immediately launch into a nervous diatribe about how we could make it work. “The apartment is a one bedroom, and while I can definitely handle it on my own, it would be really tight, but I don’t want to live with anyone else, Ben. I don’t just want a roommate. I want you. My starting pay is amazing so I don’t want the finances to freak you out and I don’t want you to think that I’ll be broke if you say no. God, I am an idiot for just springing this on you, I’m so sorry. I had a whole plan for when I was already in the city, I was going to take you out to dinner, but now you’re just here and I’m moving tomorrow, and I don’t want to wait. We’ve been waiting long enough.”

I finally look back into Ben’s eyes and he is smiling gently, letting me ramble my insanity at him. “Do I get to talk?” he asks with a chuckle. I nod and kiss his hand, then hold it against my chest, barely breathing as I await his response. “It’s a huge step, and I’ve never lived anywhere but with my parents, so that’s all pretty terrifying.” I nod again, bracing myself for the ‘no’ I believe to be coming. “But, on the other hand, I’ve been saving up for a place of my own with plans to move out after graduation. I think if I’m going to bump that timeline up at all, my family would feel a lot more comfortable if I were moving in with someone like you or even Dylan, rather than having a random stranger as a roommate. I wouldn’t just consider it, Arthur. I have considered it and I don’t want anyone but you. I can’t see ever wanting anyone like I want you ever again.” His voice is thick and he breathes deeply.

Tears well up in my eyes and I bend down to kiss him lightly. “I love you, Ben. I’m scared, too, but it was so much more scary when it was just me. I believe in us and I know we can make this work.”

He wraps his arms around me tightly and holds me against his chest. “Te amo, mi amour. Eres mi familia. I have so much faith in us,” he professes.

I breath a huge sigh of relief and rest my forehead against his. “Are we really doing this?”

“We are so doing this, but that probably requires that we finish packing up your room,” he chuckles.

“Oh, that.” I lift up and look around at the assortment of partially filled boxes and my assortment of stuff that is not packed at all. “That would probably be really helpful, huh?”

We climb off the bed and Ben pulls his jeans and tee back on, while I slip on a pair of gym shorts and the tank top I’d been wearing. I look at my watch and realize it’s only 3 o’clock in the afternoon. “Wow, Its still super early.”

“Yeah, it is,” Ben smiles. “Maybe we finish packing up and then you can show me around?” He comes to me and rests his hands on my hips. “I’d like to see what life was like for you here. I want to know what you’re going to miss.”

“You are the actual sweetest,” I kiss him. “Let’s finish packing, take a shower, and I’ll give you the grand tour of Wesleyan and Middletown.”

“Perfect, and we can save water by taking one shower,” he grins. We both blush and he kisses my forehead. 

Reluctantly, we separate and I briefly explain what the system had been so far, which was just that I had a box designated for certain types of items: clothes, school supplies and books, electronics, etc. He nods in understanding and I pick up my phone from my desk, connect it to my Bluetooth speaker, and play my Broadway playlist for us to work to. We settle into a decent rhythm as we empty drawers and clean off shelves. When boxes are full, we tape them and pile them against the back wall. As we work, we hum along to Hamilton, Heights, DEH, SIX, and a bunch of my other favorite musicals. Ben doesn’t know all of them, but every once in a while, I’ll catch him singing along to a song I’m surprised by under his breath and I’m impressed. As we move back and forth across the room, working around one another, Ben will lightly rub my back or shoulder or lay a kiss on my temple. I will gently squeeze his arm or kiss him on the back of the neck as I pass. It all feels so comfortable and domestic which only adds to my feelings of safety and contentedness.

Ben begins cleaning off my desk and picks up the picture from my 17th birthday, which is still placed front and center of all my pictures. Just like that picture of us from the post office is one of about 5 favorited pictures in my phone. I see him staring at it nostalgically and go to him, wrapping my arms around him from the side. “See?” I say. “The universe isn’t an asshole. Just look at us now.”

He smiles and sets the photo in the box he’s filling before turning to me and returning my embrace. His eyes have gone glassy and he kisses me gently. “I know it isn’t, because you’re coming back to me just in time. Between Dylan being gone and not knowing if he’ll be coming back, and Hudson and Harriet both graduating in a couple of weeks and planning to move away, I didn’t know who I’d have left outside my parents. I’ve been becoming increasingly panicked about being left alone.” He takes a deep shuddering breath.

“Ben, why didn’t you tell me? I’d hate to think that you didn’t want me to worry because I consider it a high privilege to concern myself with your well-being, Ben Alejo. You can’t keep it from me when you’re having feelings like that. Whatever we’re dealing with, we handle it together. Deal?” My hands hold his face steady and my thumbs lightly caress his cheeks as tears pool in the rims of his eyes.

“Deal,” he agrees.

I kiss him gently and we embrace tightly for a moment. I feel Ben swipe a couple of tears from his cheeks. We separate and finish the last of the packing, leaving out only clothes for tonight and tomorrow for me and my toiletries in the bathroom.

Ben is piling the last box of my school supplies on top of the boxes in the back. “Ready for that shower?” I ask, my face immediately heating up. Ben smiles and grabs his duffle bag and the leftover 'supplies' from my bed before following me into the bathroom. While we did eventually actually shower, we also did what any other 20 something couple in a spacious dorm shower would have done.

**Ben**

After our *cough* shower, we are toweling off and getting dressed. While I am openly gawking at Arthur’s naked body, and he is ogling me as well, I manage to focus enough as we each wrap towels around our waists to ask, “So, what does the apartment look like? Do we have furniture?”

Arthur smiles, “Mom and Dad and I have most of that covered. We have my bed and dresser and nightstand set from home. It’s a queen, so we have plenty of space in case you like to spread out.”

I walk to him and kiss him. “I am going to cuddle the actual shit out of you. It’s going to be both metaphorically and literally gross. Prepare yourself for a disgusting amount of cuteness.”

“That sounds awesome,” he giggles and wraps his arms around my waist. “So those are all coming with the pod and the movers. It was such a shit show logistically to make tomorrow happen. I had to pack my room up over the long weekend I went home for Passover and then Mom and Dad had to get everything in one of those little pods that you can send places.” 

“Okay, and what about like a table or a couch?” I ask, mentally picturing what an apartment needs.

“Absolutely, we found a great deal on a small round table and 4 chairs and my bubbe sent me a graduation gift of a small sectional from _Article_. I didn’t want to bring way too much, I figured I, we, will fill it in as we need certain items for storage or whatever. I know there’s not a lot of room.”

We continue getting dressed and I say, “It sounds pretty reasonable to me so far. So, tomorrow we go up and get you moved in,” I say as I button my pants. “Then, you have to come with me to talk to my parents. I am not breaking this to them alone. I think they’ll be fine, but there will likely be a lot of emotions,” I warn him.

Arthur pulls his tee over his head and smiles gently. “Sounds like a plan. My position at Penguin doesn’t start for a couple of weeks so we have some time to work out whatever we need to.”

“Perfect,” I say, pulling on my own shirt. “We’ll get to spend some real time together. I have to work on Tuesday, but my shifts usually aren’t all day. I have Saturday off. Not sure about next week yet. I am excited, but it’s going to be a huge adjustment just being in the same space all the time.” I walk to him and rest my hands on his hips.

“We have to be real adults,” he says, linking his hands together around the back of my neck. “But if I’m going to start a whole new life, I’m glad it’s with you. I’ve discovered all the best parts of who I am with three people: you, Ethan, and Jessie. You make me feel at home, Ben. No matter where I am.”

Tears pool in my eyes and spill over because, seriously, same. I know moving away from my parents is going to be hard, even though they’ll be close. But I know doing this with Arthur feels perfectly right.

Arthur brushes tears from my cheeks and kisses me softly. No hunger, all comfort and support. When he pulls back, I whisper, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” He hugs me close for a moment. “Come on, I have one night left in this town and someone told me they wanted to see what I love about it. It’s still early for dinner, so do you want to see campus first?”

“I’m following your lead. This is about as far from the city as I’ve ever been.” I gesture with my arm out to let him lead the way.

He grins and grabs my hand leading me out into his dorm building. “This is West Campus housing. It’s not quite as fancy as some of the cooler apartments for upperclassmen, but it has really awesome culturally centered and social awareness activities. Also, the WestCo Café has the best coffee of which I have consumed a lot. Seriously, D would be so proud of the sheer gallons of coffee I’ve imbibed living here.”

“Are they open? How’s their lemonade?” I tease.

Arthur laughs. “No, it’s student run, so they shut down when exams are done, but their raspberry lemonade was delicious. Handmade every morning.”

“Mmm, sounds good. It’s super cool that they have themed dorms like that. Hunter’s seem to be pretty much a free for all from what I could see.”

“It’s been a really cool couple of years here. Come on, I want to show you main campus.” He tugs me out of the building to continue the tour. He walks me through a theater where Quasimodal performs and I tell him how hot he was during his performance this morning, to which he blushes profusely. We walk through the student center and we would have walked through the library but it was closed. “Damn, I wanted to take part in the tradition of making out in the stacks,” he says, feigning disappointment.

I look around and campus is literally deserted, so I grab him and pull him to me, kissing him breathless. “Close enough, right?” I say with a smile.

“Yeah, that’ll work,” he chuckles, regaining his footing. From afar, he points out the Butterfield dorms, or “The Butts” as the students call them, and the literature building where he spent most of his time as an English major.

As we make our way back to his dorm, he grows quiet and seems to be looking at every building or place like he is trying to sear it into his mind forever. He swipes at a couple of tears and I pull him to a stop. I wrap my arms around him pulling him into me and say, “It’s okay to be sad, babe. This is the end of an era. You get to be sad for the ending of this chapter and excited for the beginning of our new one.” I gently scratch his back and kiss the top of his head.

He nods into my chest and sniffles as we both feel a text vibrate his phone. He takes a deep breath and pulls back a bit. “I am definitely that…” He pulls his phone out and smiles, brushing the last few tears from his cheeks. He turns to show me and I see Ethan and Jessie in front of two fully packed cars posing and showing off their muscles. Another text comes in asking how packing is going on our end and he sends off a reply before sliding his phone back in his pocket. “Okay, so we have pizza or we have Italian. I know, they sound like the same thing. They are definitely not,” he explains as we head for his car.

“Pizza sounds good. I’m a New York Style diehard, but it’s all I’ve ever had. Maybe I’ll like it even better!” I joke. Please note: I WILL NOT like it better. Village Square Pizza is my life’s blood, but I’m a general pizza enthusiast, so I’ll probably at least like it.

As we get in the car, I realize that something has to be done with it when he moves to the city. “Where is this thing going after the move?” I ask, patting the dashboard of his forest green Subaru Outback.

“Elphaba will go back to Great Georgia from whence she came with my parents and be sold. I’ll get the money from the sale.” He pouts adorably and caresses the steering wheel. “She’s been a good and loyal friend since I was 16. I’m going to miss her,” he sniffs dramatically.

I laugh, “We’ll have to give her a proper send off. I’ve never made out in a car before,” I tell him, suggestively putting my hand gently on his thigh.

“Benjamin Hugo Alejo, I already want to jump your bones all of the time. Please, in the name of Lin-Manuel Miranda, remove your incredibly tempting hand immediately.”

I do as I am asked smiling sheepishly. “Can we make out in the car after dinner?” I smile, wide and innocent.

He sighs. “Like I could possibly resist you, you impossible boy.” He shakes his head but he is smiling as he shifts the car and we head out.

**Arthur**

I take Ben to Mondo for what I think is amazing pizza. Once we finish eating, he reluctantly admits that it is good, but it’s not even close to Village Square. As I sit across from him, staring at his strong jaw and adorable splash of freckles, I realize I must look like a personifies heart-eyes emoji. I am here with Ben after all these years. We are Ben and Arthur, Arthur and Ben. Taking on adulthood in the big city.

Ben slides his fingers between mine across the table. “What’re you thinking about over there?”

“Just how I’m looking forward to all of the firsts we get to share just between us. We’re taking on a huge milestone and we’re doing it together. But, seeing as I just got you back, prepare for me to be very selfish with you. Only Dylan gets unrestricted access because he’d totally choke me out and because I love him,” I tell him very matter-of-factly.

Ben grins wide. “I’ll be sure to let D know that you’re down for joint custody whenever he’s in town. He and Sam graduated yesterday, you know? If Illinois were any closer I’d have gone to both, but he’s half a country away.

“Are they still going strong?” I ask.

“5 years in July. Pretty sure he’s going to propose on their anniversary. Coffee will be involved. I, well, we may be commandeered to help with the proposal,” Ben supposes.

“Oh my God! I would love that so much!”

“I know you would,” he smiles at me adoringly. “Are you ready? Big day tomorrow, and I was promised a car make out.”

I roll my eyes and smirk at him. He is the most impossibly irresistible person. “Come on, make out monger. I know just the spot.”

It is after 9 and just starting to get dark, but soon, the sky will be full of stars. Not far from campus is a park where we can be reasonably assured to be alone. I drive us to Butternut Hollow and, as I expected, no one else is around. I pull in and drive a little way back to a lot that isn’t fully bathed in streetlights. I am out and proud, but this is a moment just for the two of us. I grab my phone and turn on the Hamilton Instrumental tracks on low as background noise then look toward Ben. He is smiling over at me and I feel particularly _seen_ by him, which isn’t bad, but I’m not used to that anymore having been apart from him for so long.

“What?” I ask, reaching for his hand.

He twines them together and says, “I’m just really proud of you. When we first met, you were still coming into your own as someone who was out and proud, like, I don’t know, you weren’t quite comfortable in your “gay skin” yet. I can see how well you’ve settled into who you are and that you’re so much more yourself. I saw it some in August, but that was like a blast from the past. Seeing you here in your element, it’s so much more apparent.”

“And this new me is still attractive to you, right?” I smile self-consciously.

“Arthur, you’ve always been attractive to me inside and out. I just know it was difficult, coming here on your own, building a new life for yourself, but I can honestly say that seeing you grow into this version of yourself has helped me fall even more in love with you than I was then. It’s seriously like the Universe stayed on our side just to bring us to this time when it’s finally our turn.”

I am looking up, blinking away fresh tears that prickle at my eyes. “Do you even know how much of my comfort with myself and my identity I have you to thank for?” I look back at him. “You showed me that there’s no one right way to be a gay man. From the outside you may present more typically masculine and I may present more feminine, but you don’t use that against people, especially me. You never made me feel like I should act straighter or even gayer. You just take me as I am and love me for me. Not everyone has been that accepting, even within the community,” I admit.

“What do you mean?” his brow furrows.

“Some of the guys in acapella also headed up the Pride association and they made some comments about how ‘loving musicals and liking guys’ weren’t ‘gay enough’. They tried to pressure me into getting more into the whole scene at the clubs, drinking and even sleeping around so that I would be a ‘real’ gay man. That’s about the time I’d hole up in my dorm room and text or FaceTime you.” My eyes are downcast as I allow him to process.

When I look up, I see the rage pass across his features before he opens his eyes and they are sad. He tugs me to him and it takes some finagling, but I am over the center console and straddling his narrow hips in pretty short order. He takes my face in his hands. A lone tear escapes my eye as I hold my hands over his. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it forever: you are so good Art, just at your core a good human being. You don’t need to do or be anything you aren’t comfortable with in order to be ‘gay enough’. That’s some seriously fucked up bullshit. I will make it my life’s mission to make sure that no one ever makes you feel that way again. Okay?”

I nod and he brings me in for a kiss, slow and gentle at first, but then he trails his hands over my shoulders and down my back, holding me tighter. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my tongue into our kiss. You would probably think that, given what we got up to earlier…twice… that this would not be just as good. But God, kissing Ben is the actual best. Having sex with him is a literal cherry on top because I could be held and kissed and cuddled by Ben forever and be a happy man. I start to get uncomfortable, though, because cars are small, so I reach down and pull the seat-back release. We both tumble and laugh as I fall against his chest.

I lift up and smile sheepishly, “Sorry, my knees were starting to get sore.”

“You do have a dorm room we could move this party to just down the road. You’re aware of this, yes?”

“I do, indeed, but my man requested a car make out and a car make out is what he shall get. Also, the stars out here are beautiful and I wanted to get one last good look before we get to the city of endless light pollution.” I smile and rest myself against him again, continuing to kiss his beautiful mouth.

I run my hands through his hair and he holds me to him with one hand around my back and the other firmly planted on my ass. We are breathing deeply and unevenly and I feel Ben growing excited against my leg. I slow the kiss considerably and lift away from him. I pull him to a sitting position and return the seat back to upright as he rests his forehead against my chest and we both take a moment to cool down. I gently run my fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck and rub his back.

“Pretty good for your first and only car make out, yeah?” I ask.

He looks up at me and nods before pressing one more kiss to my lips. I open the passenger side door and kind of spill out of the car awkwardly, shaking and stomping my legs to regain feeling in my feet.

“You okay?” he asks, putting a hand on my back to help steady me.

“Yeah, just a little numb,” I smile.

He waits patiently as I make sure I am stable and then I grab the thick wool blanket that lives in the back of my car. I take his hand and he asks, “Where are you taking me?”

With literally zero hesitation, in a moment I have been waiting for all of my life, I say, “I’m about to change your life.” I grin widely.

“By all means, lead the way,” he quotes back with a chuckle.

God, aren’t we just the fucking cutest?

We reach an open patch of grass and spread out the blanket together before lying down next to one another. I can almost literally hear Ben’s jaw hit the figurative floor as he stares at the vast expanse of millions of twinkling stars. “You’re right, we never see this many in the city. God, there’s just so many.”

“Just you wait until I finally get you back to Georgia. They’re even brighter in the country. Maybe we can try to go for Thanksgiving? I know you’ll want to be here with your family on Christmas.”

“Wow. That sounds amazing,” he says thickly. “I’d love to see where you grew up.”

I turn my head and see him blinking away tears. “We are quite the emotional pair today, aren’t we?” I chuckle, rolling up on one elbow and clearing the tears from the sides of his face.

“It’s been a pretty charged day,” he offers, moving an arm around me. “You doing okay?”

“I am with my beautiful boyfriend and we have a bright happy future together. I am completely blissed out of my fucking mind,” I tell him.

I rest my head on his chest and we lie there for a while longer until Ben says, “We have a pretty big day tomorrow. You ready to head back?” I nod and we sit up, stretch, and head back to campus.

As we are brushing our teeth and getting ready for bed, I am struck by how well we orbit one another. Our movements ebb and flow for one another, making space for each other but not sacrificing the space we need for ourselves. We are patient and we are kind. I hope we never lose this innate respect we have for one another.

We finish up in the bathroom and go climb into bed. I am the little spoon and Ben pulls me against him, pressing a couple of kisses to my neck and shoulder.

“Love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too,” I say softly as I settle back against him. We are asleep almost immediately after the very long and emotionally taxing events of the day.

**Ben –** _Sunday, May 28 th, 2023_

I am stirred awake by Art’s phone alarm. He groans next to me as he reaches out and turns it off. I laugh as my eyes flutter open. Due to the cave-like nature of his room, it is still very dark.

“Morning sunshine,” I say against his ear and brush my lips along the curve of it.

“Mmmmmm” he groans again. “Sunshine is still sleeping next to his perfect boyfriend,” he grumbles into his pillow, rolling more onto his stomach. My hand lands on his back and I gently scratch up and down his back while laying light kisses on his neck and cheek.

“I have some ideas as to how I might help you wake up, if you’re interested,” I tease.

His head quirks toward me and he rolls back onto his back. “Even half asleep me is intensely interested in the prospect of whatever you might be suggesting,” he yawns. I move to lay fully on top of him and smile mischievously as I dip my head to start kissing his neck and then traveling down his body, eventually kissing…everywhere… He reciprocates in a similar fashion and we finally agree we should get up and get ready.

“We are meeting Mom and Dad for breakfast before we start our caravan into the city. They’re expecting us in,” he checks his phone, “just over an hour and we still have to load up my car.”

I take a deep calming breath. “Okay. Let’s move you to NYC!” I pull him in for a tight hug.

“I’m so excited!” he says into my chest.

We climb out of bed and quickly go through our morning routines before we start loading up his car. We haul out the first couple of boxes and put down the back row of seats to make more room. Even so, we have a little trouble Tetris-ing all of the boxes and his fridge into the car. Art texts and lets his parents know we are running a few minutes late. They respond that they have coffee and nothing but time.

Once we finally have everything in, he does a final scan of his room which is now bare of any memory of him save the ones we hold in our minds. Art leads me to the end of the hall where he knocks on the door that reads “RA”. A pretty black girl with braids down to her butt opens the door. “Hey Art, are you all cleaned out?”

“Yep. Thanks for everything this year, Jaylin. Seriously, you went above and beyond the call,” he tells her.

She leans in to hug him and is brought up short when she sees me leaning against the wall. “OH. MY. GOSH. Is this Ben?? THEE Ben??” I blush and nod. She puts an arm around Art’s shoulders and looks me up and down with a whistle. “Damn, boy. You done way better than any of those bitchy a capella boys. You trust that!” she assures him.

I chuckle a little and thank her. Arthur is smiling at my clear discomfort and mild embarrassment. “Alright,” he says. “We gotta go, Jay. Give Jessica my love and definitely look us up if you’re in NYC.” He hugs her one more time and we head back down the hall.

I can’t help but wonder. “Thanks for everything?” I prod.

He smiles kind of sadly. “When I moved in this year, I was kind of a hot mess. You and I had just… and I was not as present at dorm events as I had been last year. Jaylin and her girlfriend Jessica, yes, they’re that cute, came to my room and asked me what the hell was going on with me. I kind of word vomited everything to them about us and our story and how we’d just spent this perfect weekend together and I missed you,” he explains.

“God, Arthur… I didn’t… shit…” I stutter in frustration at having missed this moment but also at being the cause of it. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault, it just wasn’t quite our time yet.” He grips my hand reassuringly. “But them pulling me out of my room pretty literally pulled me out of my funk. They were also very supportive of my choice not to whore myself out like the other guys were doing. They were just really great friends.”

“I’m really glad you had them. I hate that I couldn’t be there for you in that moment, but it’s good knowing there were other people who had your back when I couldn’t. I’ll admit, Dylan had a similar intervention moment before he left in the fall.” I imitate him, “Bennis the Menace, you’ve been in this bed for days! Let’s go, dear heart.” Arthur smiles. “It was pretty rough on my end there for a bit, too,” I admit.

When we reach his car, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me in for a kiss. It is soft and sweet and he hugs me tightly. I kiss his temple and return his embrace. “Come on, we have a whole new life to get started on,” I whisper. He pulls back and pecks me on the lips one last time before heading around the car and unlocking it so we can both get in.

At breakfast, Arthur tells his parents that he asked me to move in and I have agreed to do so. They share a knowing smile and nod. Mara reaches across the table and takes one of my hands and one of Arthur’s. “We love you both, and we just want you each to make sure that you’re very careful to take care of one another. Living together is much different than just dating.”

We both nod and promise to do so. She lifts our hands and kisses each of them in turn and squeezes them. I’m a little surprised they’re being quite so supportive, but I know they love Art and they know I love him, too.

“Okay boys, we should get going,” Art’s dad says, coughing some thickness from his throat.

“Yep, the pod and movers are supposed to be there around two and we want to unload everything else before they get there. Article is supposed to deliver around four,” his mom says.

Arthur and his dad agree on a path to get to the apartment and sync up their GPS apps before we get on the road. As we drive, we are listening to a mix from Arthur’s phone that I made for him a long time ago with a lot of Broadway and plenty of catchy 2018/2019 radio hits. I feel a buzz and pull out my phone to see a text from Dylan:

Dylan: **[Bennison! Call me, I hear you have NEWS!]**

My brow furrows and I turn to Arthur asking, “Did you already tell D?”

He goes immediately pink around the ears. “I may have asked him a couple of weeks ago if he thought you’d say yes. He said I was an idiot for not realizing you missed me as much as I missed you. I guess he connected the dots when you came to me for graduation.”

I shake my head but I can’t deny that I love that Arthur felt comfortable enough to approach D with that kind of thing about me. I turn down the music and tap the Call Icon by Dylan’s name, putting him on speaker.

“Benny boy! Light of my life! What’s the good word?” he answers. No bullshit or small talk for this guy.

“Hey D, I hear you’ve been conspiring on my behalf,” I accuse playfully.

“I may have encouraged our young Seussical in the direction he was already heading, but it was all on him.”

“Well, you’ll be glad to hear that we are currently driving to what will be OUR new apartment uptown. As soon as I tell my parents.”

“Oh Bennison, they love Arthur almost as much as they love me. Fear not, for they will be happy for you.”

“Thanks man.”

“Thanks for the nudge, D,” Arthur chimes in.

“Anytime boys. Hey, Samantha and I will be back in town next weekend! Let’s get together! We’ll come check out your new place!” he suggests.

“Sounds good to me, you good with that?” I ask Arthur.

“Absolutely, you know Ben’s home is always open to you. Just make sure you text, so we can…how did you put it? ‘Unhook our dicks immediately.’”

I immediately lose it and bust up laughing and I can hear Dylan laughing on the other end as well. Arthur is smiling, pretty pleased with himself, but still driving safely. “Sure thing Seussical,” Dylan manages through his guffaws and we hang up.

“That was a deep cut, babe. Respect!”

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “So, I get you to move in with me and we’re a pet-name couple?” he asks with a smile.

“Huh, not necessarily. I don’t know. It just felt right. Are you not okay with it?” I ask.

“It’s just something I noticed. I don’t hate it, it’s cute. I really love hearing you say my name, though. I’d miss it if you never said it.” He reaches out and takes my hand.

“I can appreciate that, Arthur James Seuss.”

“Thanks, Ben Hugo Alejo.” He still doesn’t have the Spanish emphasis quite right, but it’s still the fucking cutest.

Arthur reclaims the use of his hand as we approach the city and traffic gets quite a bit heavier. He’s run all over public transit, but driving is much more nerve wracking in Manhattan. I try to DJ music to inspire calm and positive vibes. Finally we arrive at the building and he calls the manager to let him know we are there. The building manager says he’ll meet us in the apartment #2018.

“That’s the year we met,” I realize with a smile.

“The universe is laughing at us again.” Arthur squeezes my hand.

Arthur and his parents sign papers because they are co-signing with him and the manager says he will send up paperwork later this week to add me to the lease. We are both given keys and, of course, Mama Seuss wants pictures. We hold them up for the camera and I sneak a kiss on Art’s cheek as she is finishing. She lets out the biggest, “Awwwwwwww,” which means we are both immediately blushing.

Arthur and I take a moment to look around and form a plan of attack, deciding things like the orientation of the bed and that most of the boxes coming in now can’t really be unpacked until the furniture gets here so they’ll go in the two small closets and by the wall of the living room for now. The building manager told us to use the service elevator for loading in so we don’t hold up either of the two regular elevators. It turns out that everything from both cars will fit in that elevator in a single trip. Win!

We unload into the apartment and it is still a little while until the pod gets here so Art and I are sitting on the peninsula of our kitchen counter holding hands, 100% blissed out and happy that we are here together. Art’s dad comes in from making sure both of the cars are in spaces with well paid meters and asks if we want lunch.

“Sure,” we say in unison and laugh.

Mr. Seuss puts a hand on my shoulder and says, “ We really are glad you’ll be here to make sure our boy is okay, Ben. In a way, it doesn’t feel sudden at all.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, sir,” I say around the ball of emotion building in my throat. In this moment, I think about my own parents and my confidence is bolstered that they will also be supportive and happy for us.

Mr. Seuss coughs and steps back. “How does Chinese sound?” We both nod and he searches for a local place to order from then steps away to make the call.

I look at Arthur and he is smiling like a fool. I take his face in my hand and kiss his forehead realizing, once again, how lucky we are to have such amazing and supportive parents when so many young queer people just don’t get that. Speaking of my parents, they have no idea I’m here. “Hey,” I say to Arthur. “ I have to go call my mom. I’ll be in the hall.”

As I hop off the table, he grabs my arm gently. “Ben, use the bedroom babe. It’s your space, too.”

I smile and say “Oh, yeah. And I also don’t hate that.” He smiles and I kiss him quickly on the lips. 

I head into the bedroom and call my mom’s cell, sitting against the wall with my knees up.

“Hi Benito, how are you?”

“Hey Mom. I’m good. I wanted to let you know that I got back into the city a little early.”

“Oh? Is everything okay, Mijo?” she asks.

“Yeah, everything is actually amazing. Better than I could have expected. We are currently moving Arthur into his new apartment in Hamilton Heights.”

“Wow, Ben! That’s amazing, you know I’ve always loved Arthur.”

“I do know that, and that’s why we would like to know if you and Pa are available for dinner tomorrow. There’s something we’d like to talk to you about.” My voice is nervous and a little shaky.

“Of course,” she says. I can hear the emotion in her voice as she continues. “How does Pollo Guisado sound for dinner?”

“That sounds great, Ma. Are you okay?” Tears begin welling in my own eyes now.

“Of course, Mijo, just a mama whose baby is leaving the nest, aren’t I?”

“I should have known you would know,” I say quietly. “How do you think Pa will take it?”

“I think he’ll be proud you’re getting out and sad to see you go,” she admits.

We firm up plans for tomorrow and hang up, swiping at tears I don’t remember falling.

Arthur knocks softly and pops his head in. “Ben? Food’s here.” He sees me on the floor and comes in, sitting cross-legged in front of me. He leans forward and rests his chin on my knee. “You okay?”

“Ma figured us out,” I laugh through the tears. “She started getting emotional and so did I.”

“But are you okay?” he cups my cheek in his hand, caressing my cheek lightly.

I know he is confirming once again that I am, in fact, ready to move in with him. “Yes, Art. I’m ready. I love you and I’m so excited, It just comes with a lot of feelings.”

He nods and lifts up to kiss me gently. “Come on, the food smells really good.” He stands and offers me both hands which I take and he helps me up. He pulls me in wrapping me tightly in his arms. It is more than just a hug. His arms snake around my midsection and cover my lower back and the space between my shoulder blades. His cheek is pressed tightly against my chest. My arms looping around him is immediate and I rest my face against the top of his head. “I love you, too. Thank you for taking this leap with me.”

He pulls back and we walk out to the kitchen and have lunch. The food is so good that Art’s dad makes sure to leave the menu on the counter so we have it whenever we might want to order again. By the time we finish, Art’s mom has gotten a call that the movers are just a few minutes out. She explains to them where to go so they will back up to the service elevator.

“We’ll go meet them to make sure they’re nice to your things. You boys stay here and tell them where you’d like it when they come up,” she tells us.

When they’ve gone, I turn to Arthur and smile, “What a charmed life you live.”

He grins. “Right? Best of all, they’re going to be filling that elevator for like half an hour. Come on, I want to show you something!” He drags me to the living room.

**Arthur**

I pull Ben to the sliding door in the living room and open it. We step out onto the two by six patio which looks out toward downtown. Ben’s eyebrows lift, impressed.

“Wow. This is amazing, Arthur.” He walks to the railing and looks over. “We are so high!”

I come behind him and wrap my arms around him, burying my face in his back between his shoulder blades. He caresses my forearm absentmindedly and muses, “This will look so cool at night.”

We stay like that in comfortable silence for a little while. I am so completely content and happy just standing here holding him. Eventually, Ben turns around in my arms and returns my embrace, letting his long arms fall over mine, his linked hands resting on my lower back as we lean together against the railing.

“Can you believe we get to just do this now? We get to hang out on OUR patio. We’ll get to sleep in OUR bed. We’ll get to cook in OUR kitchen. It’s all ours now, Ben,” I say, a little awestruck.

“It’s like what you said that day at Milton’s,” he says.

“Like we’re old New York City dads! Yes! It’s exactly like that,” I agree. “I can’t believe you still remember that.”

He looks into my eyes intensely. “Arthur, I remember everything.” He kisses me deeply, but quickly and when he pulls away I am breathless. He rests his forehead against mine and holds me close while I catch my breath and then we hear the door open. We head inside to direct the team of movers.

Just over an hour later, the bed is set up and my mom is making it, the table and chairs are in place outside the kitchen, my dresser and other bedroom furniture are in, and the small entertainment center my parents let me commandeer from our basement is in where we think we’ll be setting up the living room. Not very long later, the movers are gone and the Article delivery people are placing the couch in the perfect place to define the living area across from the entertainment center. Once they’ve gone, my parents decide it is time for them to go and let us get settled on our own. Mom’s been yawning for a bit now and Dad wants to get her some food and to bed. Ben, who is in the kitchen area unpacking a box of dishes and utensils, turns and waits patiently while we say our goodbyes.

I walk to Mom and wrap my arms around her tightly. “Thank you, both of you, for everything,” I say, choking on the emotion rising in my chest. Tears begin to slide down my cheeks as Dad wraps both Mom and I in his larger embrace.

“We love you, kiddo. We are so proud of you.” Dad’s voice is thick, too.

I lift my head between my parents’ and see Ben watching us also swiping at the tears on his cheeks but letting us have this moment for our family.

“We love you so much, Arthur.” Mom pulls back and takes my face in her hands. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to pick up the phone, okay? We can bring back anything you might need from home when we’re back in July.”

I nod and take a deep breath. I hug my dad one last time as I regain a bit of my composure.

Mom goes to Ben and hugs him tightly. “You take care of each other, okay? You don’t hesitate to call either. We’ll be sure to set up that dinner with your parents.”

Ben nods. “Thanks for everything, Mara. I’ll take care of him as best I can.” My dad claps Ben on the shoulder a couple of times as he and my mom make their way out the door.

Ben comes to me as they wave to us. He wraps an arm across my chest and I hang onto it tightly. The other hand is looped loosely around my waist. They close the door behind them and I lean back into Ben. They’re gone and I feel like they’ve just packed up my childhood and taken it with them. It was different going to college, not that I didn’t shed some tears then too, but it is so much more permanent and final now.

I turn around and bury my face in Ben’s chest, gripping the back of his t-shirt in my hands as the emotion of the moment and the day as a whole take me over. He rubs my back and whispers to me. “I’m right here, I’ve got you.”

It takes me a few minutes, but I manage to pull my shit together. I pull away and take a few deep breaths as Ben clears my cheeks of tears. I look up at him and smile. “Thanks, Ben. I think I’m okay now.”

He presses a kiss to my lips and smiles. “So, what are you up for? More unpacking? Warding off impending adulthood with a movie? We could also embrace the adulthood and go grocery shopping since our fridge is decidedly empty,” Ben offers.

“That sounds like a good idea,” I say. “Let’s go get our adult on.”

“Awesome, we can set up a shared list and when we need stuff, we can each grab it on our way home. It’s so easy,” he explains.

“I also have a rolling cart for our bigger trips, so we don’t have to carry a ton of bags home.” I smile.

“Look at us, so prepared to adult!” He kisses me and we separate to get our wallets and keys so we can go.

As we walk to the elevator, I tell him, “There’s a Food Universe around the corner. We can go down Hamilton Place!”

“You’ve had this planned out for a while haven’t you?” he asks with a chuckle.

“You know me, overthinking to the max, always prepared, always on time.”

“I do know this and I love it about you. I also love helping you be more spontaneous. We’ll work on that.” He grins as we ride down the elevator.

Shopping together is … an experience. I am very used to buying things in bulk and having enough for a while, but in the city you have to have somewhere to store all that stuff and you have to carry it to wherever you live, so buying a bunch of anything is not a great idea unless the sale is just that good. Ben keeps reminding me that the fresh stuff eventually goes bad and will go to waste. I respect his insistence because a.) he’s my boyfriend and I love him, but more so b.) because his family has dealt with having ‘just enough’ for as long as he can remember. So, while we do splurge on a couple of snack indulgences we might not usually get at home (Ben’s got a thing for Twinkies and I love pop-tarts, like, a lot) we mostly stick to the basics. Another thing Ben is pretty passionate about is not buying a lot of pre-packaged stuff because if you can buy stuff to make it and containers you can reuse, then you end up with way more while spending a lot less. He’s like a master budgeter and really into shopping sustainably when he can. This was a bit of a revelation to me, but I fell just a little more in love with him listening to him explain why he does or doesn’t buy certain things. He got into a whole diatribe about Lunchables and how they’re the biggest scam and I just had to kiss him in the middle of the store, right there in front of the cooler.

As we head back home, (yes, our home, doesn’t that sound cool??) Ben rolls the cart and I carry the bag that didn’t fit while our interlocked hands swing between us. The bliss I am feeling at this domesticity cannot be measured. We make it home and organize our items into the fridge. We both have pretty similar thoughts about where things should go, which is good because I won’t come home and find the milk on the bottom of the door when it clearly belongs on top and he won’t find the lunch meat in one of the veggie drawers when there’s a clearly labeled Meat and Cheese drawer.

We decide to make grilled cheese for dinner because it’s simple and quick. I pull out the larger of the pans we have and get it on the burner while Ben pulls out the cheese and mayo and starts assembling them on the bread.

“Mayo?” I ask as I fish around the utensil drawer for a spatula.

“You’ve never had a grilled cheese with mayo? It literally always comes out perfect and never burns.”

“We always used butter and they definitely burned,” I tell him with a laugh.

“Stand back, my Mighty Arturo, for I will make you the perfect grilled cheese.” He does a little super hero pose and I giggle. He kisses me and firmly nudges me out of the way of the stove so he can get cooking.

“Are we thinking a salad on the side or…” I hunt in the small pantry for some of the canned items my parents brought from home. I see a couple of glass jars in the back of peaches. “Peaches?? Oh man, home canned Georgia peaches. Yum!”

“I think we have a winner,” Ben says smiling in my direction.

“Extrotally!” I exclaim as I carefully pull them out.

“I’m pretty sure that’s like ‘Fetch’ babe. It ain’t gonna happen.”

“I know, but it made you smile, didn’t it?” I ask as I walk back toward him.

“Yes, my love. Yes, it did.”

I kiss him on the cheek and grab a small bowl to pour the peaches and their delicious syrup into.

It doesn’t take long before Ben has dished up two perfectly melty and crispy grilled cheeses and we are eating at the table. “Wow, Ben. These are amazing.”

“I know,” he smirks. “So are these,” he notes as he stabs a peach slice with his fork and pops it into his mouth.

“Oh, I know.” I smirk in return. We both laugh as we finish up and clean up together.

As I am placing the pan we used into the dish drainer on the counter, Ben comes behind me putting his hands on my hips and laying a light kiss on my shoulder. “Are you as tired as I am?”

I turn in his arms. “Exhausted, but feeling especially grimy. Quick shower?” I ask.

“Yeah, together?”

“Absolutely, just a shower though, right?”

“Oh yeah, too tired.” He yawns for emphasis and smiles.

Once we’ve washed all pertinent areas, we stand in the shower holding one another under the extra hot water letting it wash over us and relax all of the tension of the day away. When the water starts to lose some of its bite, we shut it off and get dried off. In a similar way to how we ebbed and flowed with one another in my dorm room, we find our way to the beginnings of a routine here as well. It is must smaller, but the respect and care in our actions is there.

When we’re ready for bed, we climb in and assume the positions that will likely be ours most of our nights together. Ben curls around me from behind, kisses my shoulder, and tells me he loves me. I bring his hand to my lips kissing the back gently and tell him I love him, too. We are settling in together so well and I am completely content as I drift off to sleep.

**Ben** _**–** Monday, May 29th, 2023_

When I wake up, I pry open my eyes while reaching out for Arthur and realize I am alone in bed. I roll out of bed, take care of morning business, and head toward the kitchen. Arthur is there scrambling eggs at the stove. My heart literally aches at how adorable he is cooking in his shorts, tee, and glasses. It reminds me of the day I left that summer. He looks beautiful no matter what.

He turns when he hears me and a smile breaks wide across his face. “Hey Handsome, are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat. What are you doing up so bright eyed and bushy tailed?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I woke up and looked at the beautiful man lying next to me and wanted to make our first morning in our new place special.”

My heart melts and I walk up behind him linking my arms around his waist. “It’s already special because you’re here with me,” I lay some light kisses behind his ear and in the crook of his neck. “But thank you for breakfast regardless.”

He turns his head and kisses me lightly. “It’s my pleasure. Would you mind getting out drinks? I’d like OJ.”

I kiss him again and then move to the fridge doing as I was asked.

“One piece of toast or two?” he asks.

“One is good.” I take the drinks to the table and then rifle through the assortment of pantry items Team Seuss sent and SCORE! I find cinnamon and sugar and make myself a concoction in a small plastic container. I see Arthur’s brow furrow in confusion and ask, “Have you never had cinnamon sugar toast?” He shakes his head and I laugh. “We didn’t always have jelly or whatever so Ma would make this and sprinkle it over our toast. It’s really good. Like a knock off homemade cinnamon churro,” I explain.

“Sweet,” he shrugs. I pull out the new bottle of squeezable strawberry jam I found in the cupboard as well and put it on the table with my mixture. Finally, I pull out the silverware and the butter as Art is dividing the eggs onto plates. He slices the toast diagonally and puts two triangles on each plate before bringing them to the table.

While we eat, we discuss our plans for the day. We decide we’ll unpack all we can that’s here and then grab one of those $20 U-Haul pickups to take to my parents’ apartment when we go for dinner tonight.

I’m still pretty “Say what?” about moving out of my the apartment I’ve shared with them since I was little, but I can also already feel the rhythm that Arthur and I are settling into and I can see us being content and comfortable together for the rest of our lives. This would scare the shit out of most 22 year old guys, but I’m so fucking happy about it. Where Dylan was always hoping to find that love and I was really just looking to be happy, it looks like we both found it about the same time. I just had to wait a while for it to become a reality. Sometimes I wish I’d let Arthur keep looking at schools in New York but I knew we needed the time apart from one another to appreciate what we have now. And man, do I love what we’re building here…

We clean up breakfast together and then I insist on doing the dishes because he had cooked, so he gets going on unpacking in the bedroom. Once the dishes are done, I settle in on the floor in front of the entertainment center, finding an odd sort of comfort in the untangling and plugging in of wires. As I get to the bottom of the box of wires and electronics, I spot a small black console with a handheld game in it and two joycon icons on the outside.

“Babe!” I call, looking at the Nintendo SwitchPlus in awe. I’ve played one with some of the guys from Hunter, but we could never afford to buy one.

“Yeah?” he asks as he comes out of the bedroom.

I hold up the game system. “You have one of these?” I ask, still a little overly impressed.

“Jessie and Ethan love the Just Dance games, so we’d play them together.” He comes and sits next to me. “I was thinking about getting rid of it, but as I was packing up in April, I already knew I wanted you to spend a lot of time here, and even Dylan when he’s home, so I brought it along. Maybe you can help me appreciate it more, because I asked for it for Christmas last year mostly for them.”

I kiss him. “I can’t tell you how much I love that you were already planning to ply my attention with video games over a month ago, like I would need an excuse to be here,” I shake my head and he quirks a half smile.

I set down the Switch on the entertainment center and tug Arthur into my arms so he is sitting between my legs with his legs over my thighs. I hold him around his lower back and cup his face in my other hand, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He pulls himself closer, winding his hands around my back as I deepen the kiss. Knowing how much he thought about me in his move makes me feel so incredibly loved and wanted that I can’t help but show him this intense affection. We hear a knock at the door and reluctantly pull away from one another. He smiles and presses on more kiss to my lips as he untangles himself from me and gets up. He has to adjust himself a bit before he is able to open the door and I stay seated on the floor, my elbows on my knees letting my body reign itself in. I can’t not respond to him. I know we’re young and maybe it won’t always be such an instantaneous turn-on, but damn… I want to jump him ALL. THE. TIME. This is not to say that I don’t love cuddling or simply being near him because I do, a lot, but if we’re alone and he gives the go-ahead, it’s on.

Arthur comes back to the living room with an installation guy from Verizon who will be putting in the Wi-Fi modem. We don’t want to leave him alone in our apartment, so we relax on the couch making small talk with him while he hooks up our service.

I am spread out on the chaise when he leaves, and Arthur closes the door behind him. He comes back to me and straddles my hips, to which my hands automatically hold him under his ass. “Now, where were we?” he asks mischievously as he bends down and begins to kiss my neck and we continue exactly where we’d left off, christening our new couch as our own.

Later in the afternoon, we are able to pull ourselves away from one another long enough to get showered and changed for dinner in time to get the U-Haul pickup and get over to my parents’ house.

Arthur, being the only one of us with a driver’s license, is driving. As we make our way into Alphabet City, I can’t seem to stop my leg from bouncing or my hands from wringing nervously. I am not nervous that they’ll be mad, in fact, I’m pretty sure they’re okay with this, but there is a level of milestone enormity that is settling over me. I am 22 years old and I’m moving out of home to move in with my boyfriend. THIS. IS. HUGE.  
Arthur senses my tension and squeezes my arm. When he parks, he turns to me and asks quietly, “What’s going on up there, Ben? Are you having second thoughts? It’s okay, we can wait a little while if…”

“No!” interrupt with a shout. I am taken aback that that is where his mind went. I reign in my volume and take his hand. “No, I’m ready, it’s just a lot of change and very quick and I’ve never lived anywhere else with anyone else, and it’s just big. When it’s just you and me, there’s nowhere else I want to be, but now we’re here and we’re telling my parents and I just need to know we’re in this together. I want this with you and I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life, but it’s not going to be easy, neither of us is rich and we’re so young and I still have to finish school and…” I’m rambling so much I don’t even notice Arthur push up the center armrest/console and slide toward me, so he has my face in his hands before I can process what’s happening because my brain is all over the place. There is no chill here. I have lost it all and I just don’t know what is happening and I’m coming up with more questions than answers.

He kisses me and all of the swirling thoughts in my head vanish as his lips touch mine. He pulls back and I am focused only on his electric blue eyes. He is lightly rubbing my cheeks as he tells me to take a deep breath.

“I’m right here, Ben. I am with you in this. I told you, I want a partner, not a roommate. Whatever we have to figure out, we’ll handle it together. Just tell me what you need from me. If money is the issue, we’re okay for as long as we need to be, like I said, I could do it on my own, I just don’t want to.”

“I don’t want you to have to support me, I’ve got some savings…” I start.

“I know, Ben, but I’m saying you don’t have to worry about not contributing enough. We’ll both put in what makes the most sense. Partners, in every area. I never want you to feel like you’re not as invested in this or like you’re indebted to me. That’s not love or family.” His eyes are soft but earnest. He means it. He's with me. 

Tears well up in my eyes because I know he’s right. I know he would never make me feel badly or even point out that I wasn’t contributing as much money as he was, but I realize what I’m actually feeling as I rest my forehead against his and whisper so low I pray he doesn’t hear, “I’m so worried I won’t be enough for you…”

He does hear and he is… at least a little hurt. His hands fall from my face as he forcefully says, “Benjamin Alejo, don’t ever say that to me again. You are you and you are so much more than enough. I love you as you are, no matter what. You are not a charity case and you’re not my project. You are the love of my life and the man I want to do my life with. Got it?” A couple of tears slide down my cheeks and I bury my face in his shoulder, wrapping my arms around him.

“I hear you. I love you so much. I’m sorry,” I say against his shoulder.

His voice has softened and his arms are tight around me. He moves his lips to my ear and assures me, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Ben. This is a big scary thing, which we both want to respect, but I need you to trust that when I say I’ve got you, I do. Okay?”

I nod and pull back to kiss him determinedly. “Okay, let’s do this.” I hug him close one more time before we get out of the truck and grab the empty boxes and tape we brought from the apartment from unpacking Arthur’s stuff.

When we walk in to the apartment, I can already smell the Pollo Guisado, a Puerto Rican chicken stew, and I am both comforted by its warm scent and saddened that I won’t be able to come home every day to mom’s amazing food. Walking in from school or work and having her ask about my day so we could talk while she cooked were some of my favorite times with her. I breathe through the wave of sadness this memory brings on while holding firmly to Arthur's hand and realize that it won’t never happen, it just won’t be as often. Arthur squeezes my hand in return and urges me forward toward the kitchen.

“Hey Ma,” I say and she turns with a smile.

“Oh! Benito! Hi boys, so good to see you again Arthur, welcome back to the city!” She wipes her hands on her apron and hugs us both. She’s over doing the enthusiasm a little, but I appreciate the effort on her part to show us that she’s more excited for us than she is sad.

“So good to see you again, Isabelle. Dinner smells delicious.” That’s my Arthur; always charming with the manners.

I smile at him. “Seriously Ma, it smells amazing. When will Pa be home?”

“He’ll be back around 6:30. Do you boys want anything to drink?”

“I’ll get it, Ma,” I say, needing to move and get rid of a little nervous energy. I step around Arthur into the kitchen and he quickly squeezes my arm reassuringly. I get us each a glass of water and as I hand Arthur his, I ask, “Did you tell Pa? How’d he take it?”

“I did. As you’d expect he’s got his concerns, but we both know you’ve been working toward this for a while. We definitely agree, though, that we are much more comfortable knowing you won’t be doing this alone or with a stranger, but with someone we know and love.” She turns to Arthur, taking his chin in her hand. “You will take care of him, won’t you, mijo?”

“Of course I will; I love him,” Arthur professes thickly.

“I know you do, Arthur.” She brushes his cheek with her thumb before releasing him. “And so we support you. Take whatever furniture you need from your room, okay Benito?”

I wrap her in a hug. “Thanks, Ma. Love you,” I say softly.

“We love you, too, Ben. We just want you to be happy, healthy, and safe and we believe you will be.” She squeezes me tightly. “Okay, you boys go start packing up and I’ll call you out when dinner is ready.”

We head to my room which has not changed much since the last time Arthur was here and he notices as much. “Wow, it’s like a time capsule in here,” he observes. “Where do you want to start?”

“Can you start getting all the clothes out of my closet and dresser into a box and I’ll clear off my desk and bookshelves?”

“Sounds good.” He leans up and kisses my cheek before he grabs a box from the stack and gets started.

I pick up my backpack from next to my desk and set it in my chair to pack my chargers and my laptop. This 15 inch refurbished MacBook Pro with a touch bar is literally my most prized possession. I was able to buy it with financial aid for school and it’s the nicest device I’ve ever owned so I basically protect it with my life. There are a few other items of special importance I pack in my backpack like Samantha’s book cover for TWWW, my pictures of Arthur’s 17th birthday, and my graduation with Dylan, Harriet, and Hudson. Next I move on to my book shelves. I pack the school books I’ve saved for continuing certain courses (most of the others I sold back), my Harry Potter series, and all of my guilty pleasure Cassie Clare books (those were an investment, let me tell you. There are almost 30 now).

As we are both finishing up, I look around to see that we have essentially packed up my entire life so far into 5 medium sized boxes and a backpack. Even though we are taking both my bookshelves, my desk and desk chair, and my dresser, we’ll probably still have extra space in the truck bed. Just as I’m starting to feel self-conscious about this fact, Arthur pulls my arms from where I have them folded in front of me and wraps his arms around me from the side.

“Remember when we tried to have sex in this bed?” he asks quietly and giggles against my chest as my arms go around his shoulders. 

I grin at the memory and kiss his forehead. “Of course I do. I was such a nerd trying to play it cool, showing you my Sims of us.” I really just remember I didn’t want to pressure him into anything.

“You did make a very good me,” he comments. “But do you know what I remember most?”

I shake my head, “What’s that?”

“I remember that you took every moment of my virginal neuroses in stride and you made me feel safer in that moment to be exactly who I was than I’d ever felt with anyone, even my super supportive parents and best friends. Even though I’m sure you were disappointed that nothing much happened that night, I felt save and loved and cared for. That’s how I still feel when we curl up in bed, and I hope you feel just as safe with me.”

“I do, Arthur,” I murmur against his forehead and plant a light kiss where my lips rest. "You’re handling all my insecurities in pretty spectacular fashion yourself. Seriously, babe. Props to you.”

He laughs and squeezes me in a hug when he sees my dad in the doorway and we both turn.

“Hey boys,” Pa says. “I understand you’ll be taking our Ben from us,” he nods to Arthur.

“Taking him from you is the last thing I want to do. None of my family that I’m close to is in town, so we’ll probably be here quite a bit. I’m a sucker for Isabelle’s cooking, too.”

I love him so much in this moment. Pa's whole face brightens and he says, “That sounds wonderful. What if we start a Sunday dinner tradition?” he asks.

Ma comes up behind him, nodding enthusiastically. “Oh! That would be wonderful! The bookstore closes early on Sundays, right Benito?”

“Yeah, what do you think Art?”

“That sounds perfect. I so look forward to spending more time with both of you,” he says, and while I know he really means it, his dad’s comment of “Kiss ass” from that dinner here in our apartment comes back to my mind. I smile to myself at the memory.

“Great,” Pa says taking a deep breath to clear the mist from his eyes. “Well, dinner is ready. Come and eat. You can tell us about the new place.”

We gather at the table and I volunteer to pray over the meal. I thank God for family and rediscovering love and that He brought us together when we needed one another most so we would always be there for each other. Finally, I thank Him and ask for the blessing on the meal. We all look up and I squeeze Arthur’s hand as Ma and Pa are blinking away tears.

We did in and they ask us all kinds of questions about the new apartment. Ma wants to know what it looks like and what the finishes are, while Pa wants to know it’s safe and secure. Thankfully neither of them has decided to focus on the fact that it’s one bedroom and we aren’t taking my bed. We know that they know that we know that they know and no one needs to talk about it. Once dinner has finished, we pull our phones out and show them some of the pictures we took before heading over this afternoon.

“That looks beautiful,” Ma says .

“It’s pretty nice already, but we definitely have some things we’d like to add to make it really homey.” He smiles at me.

“So,” Pa says. “We have something for you Ben.”

“You do?” I have zero clue what this is about.

“Yes,” he says, pulling an envelope out of the compartment in the coffee table. “When you started working senior year and asked us to stop giving you an allowance, Ma and I talked and decided that was a very responsible thing for you to ask of us, so we wanted to do something with that $20 each week. We’ve been putting it into a high yield savings account ever since. This is all the paperwork for you to keep it or add to it yourself or whatever you need to do with it,” he says, handing me the envelope.

My mouth is agape and I stutter before finally saying, “Guys, I asked you to stop because I thought you needed the money…why…?” I am flabbergasted.

“We knew you would want to get out on your own after college and we wanted you to be able to do so with confidence and assurance that you would be successful. There’s about five thousand dollars in the account today, mijo.”

I am immediately overcome. I move off the loveseat where I’m sitting with Arthur and kneel in front of my parents to hug them both. “Thank you, Pa. I can’t tell you how much this means.”

Pa pats me on the back. “You’re a good kid, Ben. You’ve never given us any trouble and we know we’ve taught you the value of this kind of money, so we trust you to use it well.”

“We’re so happy for you, Benito,” Ma says.

“Thanks, Ma,” I say thickly as I pull away from them.

“Well, we should get you boys loaded up,” Pa says as he coughs the thickness from his throat.

As expected, my stuff doesn’t quite fill the truck bed. I put my backpack carefully in the front seat to make sure my frames don’t break. Arthur hugs my parents and promises to see them Sunday, then goes around and gets into the driver’s seat. I turn to my parents, tears already welling up in my eyes. Ma hands me a container of leftovers and both of them lean in to hug me much like Arthur’s parents had with him last night. A couple of tears escape as I pull away. “See you Sunday,” I promise.

“5 o’clock. See you then. Love you, Mijo.”

Pa claps a hand on my shoulder and says, “Be happy, Ben. Love you.”

“I love you guys, too.”

I climb into the truck and once Arthur has maneuvered into the street, he beeps the horn a couple of times as we drive off. Tears begin to spill unchecked down my cheeks as I watch my parents grow smaller in the sideview mirror.

By the time we get back to our place, I have pulled myself together as much as I can and while we wait for the service elevator to get to the ground, Arthur wraps his arms around my neck, winds his fingers in my hair, and whispers that he loves me. I hold him tightly and breathe him in, drawing so much comfort from his embrace as I regain most of my calm. As the elevator dings its arrival, I kiss Arthur’s temple and whisper, “I love you, too.”

We get everything into the apartment and return the U-Haul near the grocery store we had gone to the night before, then we walk back to the apartment.

We decide how we will divide up the space and eventually we have created distinct areas in the limited main living area for the living room, dining room, and office space. In the bedroom, Arthur’s wide but short dresser is along the one wall and my tall thinner dresser is in the corner. We each have a nightstand from his bedroom set where we each have a lamp, one from his room and one from mine, and we have the chargers for our phones and things set up behind them. The closet is a pretty even split between us. There are a few things we’d like to find to really make it our own, like a mirror to go over Art’s dresser and some sort of wall décor so it doesn’t look quite so sterile with just our furniture in the apartment. Our fridge has exactly two magnets on it and they say our names. They are the magnets I bought when he was leaving.

There are so many callbacks to that time of our lives in the new life we are building and I am still struck by how exactly we managed to hold onto one another for dear life for all of these years so we could finally have this moment when we are finally ready to come together in the love story we deserve. It took a lot of work and every time Art would tell me about a new guy he was seeing, my heart couldn’t help but break a bit at the prospect of him walking away from the possibility of us. Whenever I would meet someone new, I wondered if this would be the one that made me want something different, but they never were. It was always meant to be US (Not the United States) and only us.

When I finish putting my clothes in my dresser, I wander out of our room and find the sliding door open. I head outside and see Arthur gazing out at the lights of the city with a smile on his face.

“What are you thinking about, you beautiful boy?” I ask as I encircle him in my arms from behind.

He rests back against me. “I’m just happy. It’s been a long and emotional long weekend, but we did it. I’m here and we’re together and I’m just so fucking happy, Ben.” He squeezes my arms around him with his own. I drop a soft kiss on his neck followed by one behind his ear as my fingers lightly play at the skin beneath the hem of his t-shirt. There is a stutter in his breath and I whisper, “Me too” against his ear. He turns in my arms and his lips are on mine hungrily. I move us inside as we kiss and I close the slider behind him, pressing him against it for a moment as we continue to make out. We eventually move off the door and stumble together to our bedroom, kissing and stripping off articles of clothing leaving a path across our living area as we go. When we arrive in the bedroom, I close the door and we proceed to express our complete and utter bliss in as many ways as we can to one another.


	2. Part 2: Alabanza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A huge loss for one of the boys brings them closer together as they grieve.

**Arthur –** _November 22 nd 2023_

Ben and I have settled into a great routine. We split most of our adulting or do it together because everything we do together is more fun. We decided to create a joint checking account that we use for rent, bills, and groceries and transfer whatever else we need into our personal accounts. This helps us both (but especially Ben) feel like we’re equally contributing and helps us budget together based on the total balance instead of divvying costs up between our accounts. We literally have not had any tension around money because we do it like this.

Ben is so close to being done with school. Midterms were a couple of weeks ago and we had some pretty frustrated study sessions, but he got all As and a B. When he got the grade reports that weekend, he hugged me so hard and I took him out for a nice dinner to celebrate. We don’t go out often, but I shut down all of his protests with kisses telling him I was spoiling him for doing a good job. He worked so hard between classes and working at the bookstore usually five days a week, when it came to the weekends, I tried to respect his need for homework time, but on Saturday nights, that was us time. At 5 on Saturday, whether he’d been working or doing homework or both all day, I would commandeer him and we would cook dinner together and then do something as a couple. Usually we watched a movie or played a board game (we’re kind of into the board game thing; it’s super cute!) or if Dylan and Samantha were in town, we hung out with them, but whatever it was, it was time for him to chill.

My job at Penguin Audiobooks has been awesome. They are one of these new age offices with open space and they want us interacting and talking and collaborating on projects and ideas. We book talent, record audiobooks, and get the engineers and the talent whatever they need for their recordings: extra equipment, coffee, water, snacks, etc. They’re also really great about wanting their employees to have a work/life balance, so they close down the building at 8 each night and everyone has to leave. Only Saturdays are optional workdays, so no one ever works Sundays. It’s been amazing and I’m really starting to find my stride and feel like I’m contributing in bigger ways there.

Thanksgiving is this week, so Ben and I are out of school and work and getting ready to head to Great Georgia for a few days to visit the fam, Ethan, and Jessie. We’re both really excited but he’s a little freaked by the plane. He’s never been on a plane and while he has seemed comforted by the statistics and information I have given him, as I return from the bathroom to our terminal while we wait to board, he’s losing it a little. His leg won’t stop bouncing and he’s got wild eyes. As I sit down, I chuckle to myself and rub his back. My touch immediately reduces his bounce rate by about half. He’s been very specific with me. He doesn’t love the feeling of roller coasters, they usually make him sick, so my telling him that it feels like going on a roller coaster was not helpful. We’ve got a plan. What he needs is my hand and loud music that we’re both listening to together. We’ve made a playlist, we’re set, but I can totally feel him spiraling.

Our boarding group is called, so we gather our carry-ons, pull out our phones with our digital tickets, and go get in line. Obviously, our hands are full so holding hands in this moment is not really an option as we move up the line. While we are stopped for a moment, I see the wild eyes return and say, “Hey,” so he looks at me. “Come ‘ere”, I say, leaning forward. He bends down and I kiss him gently on the lips. He is visibly more centered when we pull away and I love the calming effect I have on him. “Better?” I ask.

“Much. Thank you,” he says as he takes a deep breath. We move up and scan our tickets before heading onto the plane. We get our suitcases in the overhead bins before taking our seats. Thankfully, we are on the side of the plane with only two seats, so we don’t have to worry about a random third person. When we get seated and buckled, I slide my hand into his and he grasps it tighter than he’s ever held my hand ever. We get our earbuds in and start our calming playlist, which seems to help him keep his chill until the pilot announces we are up for takeoff. The plane begins speeding down the runway and I’m legitimately afraid he’s going to hyperventilate and pass out, so I turn toward him grabbing him around the back of his neck and kiss him with everything I’ve got. He responds immediately without thinking and before we know it we are in the air and he is pulling away.

“You okay?” I ask, my hand is still on his face, lightly caressing his cheek.

“Yeah,” he sighs, resting his forehead on mine. “Sorry.”

“You never need to apologize for needing an impromptu make out session. Make out sessions are my forte as boyfriend and that was a pretty solid one, if I do say so myself.”

“Valid,” he agrees.

When we are allowed, I pull out my tablet and we move the headphone splitter. We put the armrest up between us and cuddle up to watch an episode of The Shannara Chronicles until we are told to put it away for landing. We’ve been bingeing random fantasy shows lately.

As we walk to baggage claim where my parents are picking us up, I ask, “Think you’ll be okay on the ride back?”

“If I say no, can we make out again?” he asks with a smirk.

I grin widely. “I mean, I’m always down for a make out.” He smiles.

We don’t have any checked baggage, so we roll right out of the exit and are almost immediately engulfed by my parents. They are hugging us and dad is taking our bags to put them in the car. We pile in so we can get out of the way of other people picking up passengers.

The following day is Thanksgiving. Ben and I do what we can to help Mom in the kitchen, but she’s got most of it covered. Before we even wake up, the turkey is already in the oven and a breakfast casserole is cooling on the island. We are relegated to rolling up ham rolls and assembling deviled eggs.

Around two o’clock, Jessie and her parents show up. We all get seated around the table and hold hands, going around to say what we are thankful for. We hear a lot about family and friends and good food, but when my mom speaks, I can tell she’s a little emotional. “I am obviously thankful for my husband and my son, but I am so incredibly thankful for you, Ben. You are part of our family now, and we know that our Arthur is happy because of you.” She is looking at Ben and we are both looking at her as tears pool in all our eyes.

Ben is sitting next to her, so he is holding her hand and he kisses it gently and quietly says, “Thank you Mara” through his emotion. He clears his throat as it is his turn to go next. “I am thankful that the universe is not an asshole,” he says with a smile and we all laugh. “I am here with a beautiful man who makes me a better human and his wonderful family who all make me feel at home, and if you’d have asked me in June of the year that Art and I met, I’d have said that would never be the case because I was destined to be alone forever. I know now, that everything happens for a reason and we are better together for all it took us to get to each other.” He squeezes my hand and smiles a crooked smile at me.

I am last. “Wow, tough acts to follow. I am grateful for my wonderful man, my family who accepts me with no reservations, and for the life we get to live New York City. We are so blessed, and I couldn’t imagine this life with anyone else, anywhere else.” Ben kisses me on the cheek and we both blush. He’s still a little weird about public displays in front of our family and friends, but he’s getting better at it.

**Ben**

Thanksgiving dinner is amazing as we all dig into our overly full plates. I am so touched by what Mara said as we were giving thanks, but I can’t help but think there may have been something more to what she said. I excuse myself and get up to go to the restroom, and when I come back, Arthur has obviously said something hilarious (as he does) and Mara’s face is all lit up. Her head is back and she’s laughing. I whip out my phone and click the camera and seize the moment taking a wide shot of the two of them. They both look so happy. I slide my phone in my pocket and don’t even tell Arthur I’ve taken the picture.

The rest of the weekend is amazing but on Sunday, as we are getting ready to leave, I hear Arthur talking to his mom in the kitchen.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been so tired and you’ve definitely lost weight.” He is obviously concerned and my brow furrows as I roll our bags out of Art’s old room and sit them by the front door.

“Oh, honey, of course I’m okay. I’ve had a pretty big caseload lately, but it’s slowing down,” she assures him.

“Okay,” he says. I can tell he is still unsure and I take a look at her of my own. She has slimmed down a bit since May... She looks tired, for sure. Arthur wraps her in a hug and holds on for a long time. “I love you, Mom. Come see us soon, okay?”

“Of course, sweetie. I love you, too.”

I move in to hug her tightly and kiss her cheek. She even feels fragile. “Thanks for everything, Mara.”

“Always my deepest pleasure, Ben, honey. We hope we can get you back here soon,” she smiles brightly, patting my arm with one hand.

“Alright, boys, let’s head out,” Art’s dad says, opening the door.

As we ride to the airport, Arthur asks his dad about his mom. “She just doesn’t seem like herself. Have you noticed anything?”

“I don’t know, kiddo. She’s been taking naps most days as soon as she gets home from work, but she has had a big caseload, like she said. Her appetite’s been a little off. Other than that, not really.”

“Can you please try to get her to a doctor? I know how she is about them, but, seriously, Dad…”

“I’ll do what I can, Art. She’s a grown woman. I can’t force her.”

“I know. I’m just worried.”

I am listening to their conversation from the back seat and I squeeze Arthur’s arm reassuringly. Once we get into the airport and are waiting at the terminal, Arthur continues to be on edge. He is sitting with his elbows on his knees, his hands folded in front of him, and his back and shoulder muscles are completely tensed up. I rest my hand on his back and he jumps out of his skin before he really sees me and visibly relaxes.

“God, Ben, I’m sorry…” He shakes his head as he places it in his hands.

“Worried about Mom?” I ask, knowing the answer is yes.

“Yeah, I just know she hates going to doctors, like flat out refuses. What if something really is wrong, Ben? What if we lose her?” His eyes are full of intense worry when he turns his face toward mine.

I cup his cheek in my hand lifting his head out of his hands. “All you can do as her son is love her and encourage her to see someone, but if she doesn’t, that’s her choice. She’s a big girl.” He nods a little and I kiss him softly then pull him into a tight hug. He seems to relax, but I can tell it’s still weighing on his mind. ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­

* * *

Over the next several months, Art and I have a standing Sunday afternoon video chat with his parents before we go have dinner with mine. On a call in mid-April, Art asks his mom again if she’s feeling okay. Even I must admit, she doesn’t look well. Her cheeks are thinning and she’s losing her color. She’s lost even more weight and she’s leaning pretty heavily on Michael.

When he asks her, she bites her lip and says, “Well, honey, I guess I don’t know if I’m okay or not, but I did finally go see a doctor and he’s sending me for some scans this week. I’ve been having some dizzy spells and decided it was time.”

“Mom, I know you hate it, but I’m so glad you went. Please let us know what they say, okay?” he implores.

“Of course we will, kiddo,” his dad says.

“We love you guys,” Mara says and blows us a kiss.

“We love you, too” we both say in unison.

As we close the computer, Art heaves a huge sigh of relief. “I’m so glad she’s finally going to the doctor. At least we’ll know what’s going on.”

_Monday, April 22 nd, 2024 about 6:30PM_

Just over a week later, we are just about to sit down to dinner when Art gets a call from his dad. It’s just before Passover and he and his parents are supposed to be converging on New Haven the following day for the traditional meals with his Bubbe and their extended family. They were so excited yesterday when we talked to them. 

Art answers his dad’s phone call and sets the phone on the counter on speakerphone so that he can finish dishing up the chicken and veggies. “Hey Dad, what’s up?”

“Hey Art, um, there’s no better way to say this, so I’ll just come out with it. Mom’s in the hospital. I know you were supposed to head to New Haven, but it’s not looking good here, bud. You should get down here if you can.” Mike’s voice sounds choked.

Arthur sets the pan down as I come toward him. “What happened?” he chokes, bracing himself on the counter.

I am there by his side and he grabs my arm as his dad stammers, “I… she… she just collapsed, Art. We haven’t gotten her results back from her scans yet… they’re saying she may not wake up… I need you here, Arthur.” He releases a sob.

“I’ll get us on the next plane out, Mike. We’ll be there as soon as we can,” I take over, seeing that Arthur is about to lose it. “I’ll text you the details.”

“Thanks, Ben. Love you guys.”

No sooner have I tapped the red “end call” icon than Arthur falls against me and my arms fly around him to brace his full weight. We sink together to the floor as I hold him against me. Arthur is weeping and not breathing, and tears are streaming down both our faces. I hold him and rock him gently and there’s nothing else I can say but, “I’m here, Arthur. You have to breathe, babe. I’ve got you.” Finally, he takes a real breath and lets out the most devastated heaving sob-scream into my chest. My heart is breaking for him as I cry with him and hold him as tightly as I can, praying silently that Mara might be okay, knowing she likely won’t.

It takes us several minutes, but once Arthur’s sobs quiet and he seems to be breathing at a more normal rate, I pull back taking his face in my hands. His electric blue eyes look into mine as tears pour from them and my heart breaks for him all over again. “I have to find us plane tickets, Art. Can you stand up for me?”

He nods and I help him up. Once we are both on our feet, he leans on the peninsula with his head resting on his crossed arms as his shoulders continue to tremble as he cries. I rush to my desk to grab my laptop, swiping at the tears on my cheeks. Arthur needs my strength more than ever right now. I rub his back with one hand and find us flights out of La Guardia pretty cheap. “There’s a red-eye at 11:10. Okay, purchased,” I say. I close my computer and turn my focus back to Arthur. I lightly play with the hair at the nape of his neck and he turns his head to look at me. “I’ll clean up the food, babe. Do you think you can go finish packing?”

He lifts up, takes a couple of shaky breaths, then nods. I lay a gentle kiss on his temple and squeeze his arm as he heads into the bedroom with his arms wrapped around himself tightly. I take a deep breath of my own and get to work. I quickly pack up the food we were about to eat (which smelled delicious…) into Tupperware containers and start texting my fellow managers and coworkers. By the time I’ve finished cleaning up the kitchen, my shifts for the remainder of the week are covered and my coworkers have all sent their well wishes for Arthur’s mom to get better.

I won’t be showing him these…

I remember gratefully that Arthur already had the rest of the week off as he would have been in New Haven, but I do cancel the train ticket that was going to get him there quickly before I turn off my laptop. All the while I am silently praying for the strength and help from whatever forces we’ve got that I can help get Arthur through what’s coming for him.

I grab a glass and fill it with ice water, draining it myself before filling it again and heading into the bedroom. I set my laptop on his long dresser and move toward Arthur on the bed. He’s sitting next to his packed duffle bag, tears still running down his cheeks. He looks at me as I crouch in front of him and press the glass into his hands.

“Should I pack my black suit?” he asks me sadly, causing tears to spring anew to my own eyes.

“I’ll get it, Art. You drink.” I stand up and kiss the top of his head before grabbing a garment bag and packing his black suit and my black slacks, deep plum dress shirt, and black cardigan. I don’t own a black suit, so that will have to do. I put our dress shoes in the bottom of the garment bag. I pack a duffle bag for myself with a few days’ clothes and grab our travel toiletry kits we bought for our trip at Thanksgiving. I throw them both in my bag and then take the now empty glass from Arthur and put it on the dresser. I sit next to him and wrap an arm around him. He leans into me with his head on my shoulder as I request a Lyft to the airport for an hour from now and text his dad with our flight details.

I slide my phone back in my pocket and put my now free arm around him and ask, “Is there anything else you need right now?”

“No,” he whispers, turning into me more fully to bury his face into my chest.

I hold him closer and kiss his shoulder. “Why don’t we take showers and get into sweats so we’re comfortable on the plane, okay?” I’m trying to make sure we can focus solely on getting to the hospital and being present there when we get to Atlanta.

He lifts his face out of my chest and begs, “Together?”

“Of course, Arthur,” I whisper, resting my forehead on his. “Whatever you need.”

We get into the shower and Arthur braces himself against the wall as he stands with his head under the stream of steaming hot water. I see his shoulders begin to shake again and I am there behind him, holding him, pressing kisses against his back and shoulder, telling him I’ve got him, I’m with him. I am very careful not to say “It’ll be okay” or anything like that. It just won’t.

Once he’s calmed down again, we shower and towel off pretty quickly and get into sweatpants and t-shirts. It is unseasonably warm for April in the city, but planes are freezing, so I grab Art’s Wesleyan quarter-zip and my Hunter College fleece and lay them on our bags.

Arthur slips on a pair of vans and I put on my black Chucks that I put rainbow elastic laces in so they are slip-ons. Art has pretty much stopped outright sobbing but sadness is etched in every muscle of his body as he leans against his dresser. I grab our wallets and phones, putting mine in my pocket and as I go to slide Arthur’s into his, he wraps his arms around my chest. My arms return his embrace instinctively.

“Thank you, Ben. If you hadn’t been here, I’d probably still be on the kitchen floor,” he tells me quietly.

“I told you, Art. I’ve got you. I’m with you, whatever you need.” I rub his back gently.

“I know, I just… you didn’t even need to be asked, you just handled it. You can add ‘good in a crisis’ to your resume` from here on out,” he huffs a humorless laugh.

“You needed me, that’s all it takes.” I pull back and take his face in my hands. “This is what it is to love, babe. We pick one another up and support each other in the shitty times just like we cheer each other on in the good. You need my strength right now, and you have it. Take every ounce you need to be strong for your family, and when it’s just you and me, you don’t have to be strong, because I’ve got you. I can carry it with you no matter what happens.”

A few new tears are dripping down his face and he nods his understanding. “Ben, can you kiss me?” he whispers.

I gently press my lips to his, imbuing the kiss with the strength he needs and my love for him. His lips are salty with tears and he sinks into my body as our lips move together. There is no ‘howling hunger’ here. There is grief and pain; comfort and love. There is a need for physical closeness. I hold him gently; he is so fragile in this moment. My phone dings, pulling us from our moment of solace in one another. I pull back and gently caress his cheek. “Our ride is here,” I tell him.

He nods and we grab our things, heading for the elevator. On the way to the airport, Arthur’s head rests on my shoulder as he texts his boss to let her know what is happening and then he texts Jessie and Ethan in their group chat.

 **Arthur:** Mom’s in the hospital. Not looking good.

 **Jessie:** Holy shit, which one?

 **Ethan:** What the hell?

 **Arthur:** St. Joseph’s. Collapsed, still unconscious.

 **Jessie:** I’ll be there. Where are you?

 **Ethan:** Jess, come get me.

 **Arthur:** Catching a red-eye. Be there around 2.

 **Jessie:** Ben, too?

 **Arthur:** Of course.

 **Jessie:** Good. I love you. We’ll see you when you get here.

 **Ethan:** Love you, man.

 **Arthur:** Love you guys, too.

Arthur wipes fresh tears away with his sleeve as I comment, “We really do have some of the best friends in the world.” A passing thought runs through my mind to text Dylan, but I figure I’ll have time while we’re waiting at the airport, so I don’t pull out my phone.

“Yeah, we do,” he sniffs.

The airport isn’t all that busy, so we are able to navigate security quickly. The TSA agents seem to sense the palpable grief we are feeling and send us through without unnecessary hassle.

When we get to the terminal, we find a pair of seats not separated by an arm rest and Arthur curls up against me, quiet and emotionally exhausted. My arm is around him and his arm rests across my stomach as my free hand lightly caresses up and down his forearm. My stomach growls loudly and he looks up at me. “Are you hungry?”

I smile sheepishly, “I could eat. Do you want something?” I am actually starving, but I wouldn’t dare admit that to my sweet, sad boyfriend.

He nods. “Maybe just a bagel and some juice? I don’t want to eat but I should and you must be famished.”

I shake my head. “Not at all. Don’t worry about me, Art. I’ll be right back.” I kiss his forehead as he sits up and I head to the Starbucks we passed on the way in. I get him a bagel and some apple juice and myself an eggs and cheese protein box and passionfruit lemonade.

When I return, I see Arthur is bent over with his face in his hand and his cellphone against his ear. I set down our food and kneel down in front of him, my brow furrowed in confusion. “Art?” I ask. He hands me the phone without a word, curling his knees up to his chest and resting his head on them as he sobs. I see Jessie’s name on the caller ID. “Jess?” I ask. My hand is on Arthur’s shoulder. Whatever this is, it’s worse than before, I just need to find out what we’re dealing with.

“Ben? Oh gosh. Ben, Mara just coded. They’re doing all they can, but they’re saying there’s no…no brain activity,” she stutters through emotion. “I know you can’t get here any sooner, but you need to be prepared for what’s happening here. We’re losing her.” Her voice is thick with tears.

“Oh, God... Okay,” I whisper, pressing my forehead against the top of Arthur’s head. “We’ll text you when we land.”

“Okay, Ben. We’re going to come get you guys. It’ll be faster than a Lyft.”

“Okay, thanks Jess.”

I hang up and rub his back gently. “Tell me what I can do,” I beg softly into his ear.

“You’re doing it,” he whimpers, lifting his head and reaching for me. I pull him against me, rubbing his back and pressing light kisses to his neck and face.

“I love you,” I whisper. “I love you so much. I am so fucking sorry, Arthur. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” I murmur these things to him as waves of unimaginable grief wash over him.

Eventually, he backs away enough to look at me. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy from crying. He begins to scrub them away with his sweatshirt sleeve and I reach up and clear them for him.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he whispers helplessly.

His face is still in my hands and I kiss his forehead. “No one does, love, but we’ll walk through it together, okay? You are not alone in this. I love you and I’m here.”

He winds his hands into my hair and rests his forehead against mine. “I love you,” he whispers.

We stay like that, eyes closed, foreheads together, noses just barely touching, his hands on the nape of my neck, my hands on his back, in our own little bubble of grief. When our boarding group is announced, we separate. I pack our food in my bag, hoping to get Arthur to eat the bagel on the plane.

Because the plane is only about half full, we again have the blessing of being in our own row. I sip my lemonade and Arthur is clutching my hand between us. I gently rub my thumb along his as we wait for take-off. He lays his head on my shoulder, sniffles and wipes his eyes with his sleeve. I turn and kiss the top of his head, then rest my cheek against his hair.

I am immensely relieved when I hear his breathing even out about 20 minutes after take off. He needs the rest while he can get it and I can finally eat. I manage to reach my backpack and pull out my food without jostling Arthur awake (the blessing of long arms) but he does wake as I am pulling off the packaging. Seriously? Why are those cellophane packages so loud??

“Sorry babe, you can go back to sleep,” I tell him.

“No, you eat. Can I have mine?”

“Yeah, of course.” I pull out his bagel and juice and hand it to him.

He picks at the bagel and ends up eating only half. I offer him something out of my box and he takes a couple of grapes and an apple with some honey peanut butter on it. I end up finishing his bagel and my box. When I’m done, I set the trash in the aisle seat next to me and then lift the arm rest between our seats. Arthur lays across my lap resting his head on his arms on my legs. I rub his back and gently massage his scalp until he’s asleep again. Once he is, I lean my head back, click off the light we’d been using, and catch some shut-eye myself.

I am awakened maybe 45 minutes later by the announcement to return all seat backs and tray tables to their original positions. Arthur sits up sleepily and leans against the window. As the flight attendant makes her rounds, I hand her all our Starbucks trash before turning my attention back to my beautiful, grieving boy.

Arthur is hugging himself and staring out the window as Atlanta’s bright lights come into view. I reach out and brush my knuckles lightly against his slightly stubbly cheek. He turns his face toward my touch with his eyes closed and lightly kisses my fingers. He leans away from the window and toward me, my arm automatically encircling his shoulders and pulling him closer. His face is in the crook of my neck and I feel a few warm tears there. I rub his arm gently and take a deep, calming breath to keep my own tears at bay as we land.

When we turn on our phones, there are no new messages or updates and I text Jessie to let her know we’ve landed. She (but hopefully Ethan?) responds that she is almost at the airport. Once we are off the plane, we make it to and through baggage claim quickly and Jessie is just pulling up as we get outside. She parks and hops out, rushing to Arthur and wrapping him in a tight hug. He returns her embrace tightly. Ethan is out now and pats my shoulder firmly. When Jessie finally releases Arthur, she comes to hug me, and Ethan moves in to hug Arthur. They have no other news, so we all pile into the car and Jessie drives as quickly as she can to the hospital. Arthur rests his chin against his fist and I can see him steeling himself for what he’s about to face.

_Arthur- Tuesday, April 23 rd, 2024 about 2AM_

When we reach the hospital, Jessie and Ethan take us up to the ICU where she tells the nurse at the desk that Mara Seuss’ son is here.

She looks at Ben and I holding hands and says, “Only family is allowed in the ICU.”

With zero hesitation, I tell her, “He’s her son-in-law.” At least he will be… or…would have been, I think. 

She looks suspicious, but nods. “Room 718. Your dad’s still down there.”

Jessie tells us she and Ethan will be in the waiting room and we head our separate ways. We turn a corner and I see my dad sitting on a seat outside the room holding his head in his hands.

Ben and I slow down and I look up at him. “Can you… would you mind hanging back a bit? Give me a sec with my dad? With her?” I need him, but I think I need to do this part with just my family.

“Whatever you need. You just let me know.” Ben looks sad, but he kisses my temple and squeezes my hand before I go to my dad.

He stays a few feet behind as I approach and say, “Dad?”

He starts and stands, embracing me tightly. “Hey bud.”

I return his tight embrace. “What do we know?” I ask him.

We sit and he explains through tears and many deep breaths. “They did a bunch of tests and we got the scans from earlier this week rushed here. It appears as though she’s had undiagnosed ovarian cancer for what looked like several years. Over time it metastasized to her liver and probably in the last few months, her brain. By the time she started having dizzy spells, it was already too late, kiddo,” he tells me heavily.

I am trying to hold it together, but tears spill down my cheeks. “We tried to tell her, Dad,” I cry quietly. “So, what about now? Is she…” I can’t make myself say the word ‘dead’ I just can’t.

“Art, whatever it was that made her Mom is gone. She’s gone, it’s just a matter of goodbyes now, bud.” He swipes at the tears in his eyes taking a deep breath. As he looks up, his eyes light on Ben behind me. He stands, “Hey Ben, get yourself over here, kid.”

Ben comes to him and hugs my dad. “I’m so sorry Mike. She was such a force,” he says sadly.

“She really was, wasn’t she? You boys should say your goodbyes, we can’t just keep her like this… I’ve been here all night; we were just waiting for you… God, this sucks.” Tears are falling again. “We knew, we tried to warn her,” he laments.

Ben pats his shoulder as Dad sits back down and I move to the door. I see the outline of Mom’s legs and feet and know I won’t make it in there by myself.

“Ben? Come with me?” I look to him.

His brow furrows, “I thought…”

I shake my head and take a deep wobbly breath. “I thought so, but… I can’t do this alone,” I admit sadly.

His eyes soften immediately, and he is by my side holding my hand. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

“Don’t let go,” I whisper, looking into the room where my mom is lying hooked up to a host of machines and wires.

“Never,” he breathes.

We walk toward her and tears flow with abandon down my cheeks as we round the curtain pulled halfway down the length of her bed. She has IVs and a huge tube down her throat. Ben switches which hand is holding mine so he can turn away and collect himself.

I slide my hand carefully around my mom’s hand. This is the hand that she put on her hip when she was busting my dad’s chops. It is the hand that applied Band-Aids and Neosporin when I fell off my bike. It is the hand that held my face as I cried when I was 17 and had to leave the boy I loved.

I lay a kiss on her hand and then on her forehead, so perfectly smooth. “I love you, Mom. I promise I’ll make you proud.” Sobs begin to shake me to my core and Ben’s arms are around me as his sobs join mine. He grieves with me, with my family, because he is my family. I feel a pang of guilt for the thought I had earlier about needing to do this with just family, because if anyone has become chosen family for all of us, it’s my Ben. He and Mom loved one another. I have to let him have his own moment to grieve the loss of my mom. I make a concerted effort to steady myself and pull back to take his face in my hands. “She loved you, so much. You heard her at Thanksgiving. She was so proud of you, of us together. Making it in the city. She was always in our corner,” I tell him through my steadily falling tears. “She would have loved to have had you as a son-in-law.” He closes his eyes and turns his face into my hand, kissing my palm.

We trade spots, not letting go of one another, and Ben takes her hand in his and whispers through his tears, “I’ve got your boy, Mara. He’s my family and I’ll take care of him, just like I promised.” He kisses her forehead and steps back, wrapping his arms around me. He rests his forehead against the side of my head and whispers into my ear, “Alabanza Mama Mara. We pray you are in the light of the father. Te amamos, te extrañamos, nosotras te recordamos.”

I am wracked by a fresh wave of sobs and lean heavily on Ben as we grieve together. It feels like a part of me is cleaving in two as I am wrecked by the realization of all the things she will miss. I mourn her absence at my and Ben’s wedding, at our kids’ birthdays and performances, at holidays, and all the other small moments that make up the bigger picture she can no longer be a part of. I weep as Ben holds me close and supports my weight. I’m not sure how I do it, but I eventually pull it together. Ben and I make our way back into the hallway and Dad is talking to a doctor. He sees us and nods sadly, signing some paperwork before returning to us.

“Mom was listed as an organ donor, and even in her condition, there are still viable organs, so she’ll be… taken off life support in the OR, and then they’ll transfer her to the funeral home tomorrow. He stares up and looks like he might lose his balance, so Ben and I each put a hand on his back.

“Okay,” he breathes, steadying himself. “I can do this. I don’t know how, but we’ll make it…”

A team of doctors comes and rolls my mom and all her equipment out of the room and down the hall as tears are shed by all of us. Once she is out of sight, I put an arm around Dad’s back and Ben’s hand is firmly clasped in mine as we walk away from the ICU.

Jessie and Ethan come to us as we approach the waiting area. We let them know she's passed and exchange long, tearful hugs before heading down the elevator. Jessie lets us grab our stuff out of her car as she promises to see us later that evening once we all have a chance to sleep. Ethan chimes in that he’ll be there, too.

Dad drives back to the house and I am sitting in the front bucket seat. Ben is right behind me, leaning forward and holding my hand. I’m pretty sure I’d be a literal puddle if he weren’t here.

As we pull in the driveway, the sky begins to lighten. We will be in my old room like we were at Thanksgiving. We all walk in, mumble “g’night” to each other, and head off to opposite ends of the house.

Ben and I take off our sweatshirts and curl up in bed together in our sweatpants and t-shirts. As I slot into place against him in the way we always do, I am comforted that in this world that has been rocked by the earthquake of my mom’s death, this still feels right and comfortable and safe.

He presses a kiss to the crook of my neck and whispers, “What do you need?” in my ear.

My lip trembles and I feel a whole new wave coming as I say, “Just you, making me feel safe in a world without my mom…”

Ben’s arms around me, holding me against him, are exactly the vice grip that I need to hold me together as sobs wrack my body again. I am short of breath as he kisses me and tells me to take deep breaths. Meanwhile, his own tears are falling against the back of my neck and shoulder. I am still whimpering softly a while later and he is nuzzling his nose against the nape of my neck. He does not pass out, like I’m sure he needs to, but waits until I have fallen asleep. He is with me, completely and for as long as I need him. I make a mental note, before I doze off, to plan an extra special date to show him how much I love him and how much his presence here has meant to me whenever we get home. 

My sleep is fitful, and I wake up several times over the next couple of hours and start crying all over again. It’s like I forget in my sleep and the shock of Mom’s loss is new each time I open my eyes. I wake up around ten and mercifully do not startle Ben awake with me (again). One of us should sleep and it almost certainly isn’t going to be me. I gingerly roll out of bed, careful to leave Ben sleeping, and pad out into the kitchen.

I am boiling water to make some chamomile tea when I hear, “Couldn’t sleep either?”

I turn and see my dad sitting down at the island. I shake my head. “I’m making tea, you want some?”

“No, thanks, but I’ll take coffee if you can start it up for me.” I do. As it brews, he quietly tells me, “The hospital called. They wanted to let us know that Mom’s organs saved 5 other lives.” I can think of nothing to say, so I just look up blinking tears from my eyes. He continues, “I made an appointment at the funeral home for late this afternoon. I know you and Ben need to get back. I figure we’ll have services on Friday.”

“That sounds fine, Dad, but don’t worry about us. We’ll make it work,” I tell him.

“You guys are doing okay?” he asks as I pour him a cup of now-brewed coffee. “Financially, I mean?” I take my cup of tea over to the island and stand across from him.

“Yeah, Dad. We’re doing great. Ben is the best budgeter I know,” I assure him.

He nods. “It was great of him to come. Mom loved him so much,” he says quietly, a small sad smile playing on his lips.

“He didn’t even think twice. He loves Mom… loved…her, too.”

“You know she kept waiting for the Sunday call when you told her he had proposed,” he says with a smirk.

I chew on the inside of my bottom lip. “Now she’ll never know…” I scrub a hand down my face.

“She’ll know, Art.”

I nod and ask, “Why did she think he was going to propose to me?”

“Because you get so in your head about that stuff. She always said Ben would beat you to it even if you might already want to.” He smiles and shakes his head.

“I do want to,” I whisper. “I told the nurse he was her son-in-law to get him in the ICU.”

“I was wondering how you got him past Janice.” He smiles and stands, patting my shoulder. “Life is short, Art. Spend as much of it loving the one who brings joy to your life as you can.” He kisses the top of my head and heads into his office.

Wow. Solid advice from a grieving man. I sip my tea and check my phone seeing a text from Jessie.

**Jessie** : Hi Art. What are your plans? What can we do?

**Ethan** : What she said.

**Me** : Meeting at the funeral home this afternoon

**Me** : Will let you know what’s up when we know

**Jessie** : Can we bring over dinner?

**Me** : Sounds good

**Me** : Something simple.

**Jessie** : Got it

**Jessie** : We’ll take care of it.

**Jessie** : I’ll come grab you, Ethan.

**Ethan** : Perf

**Me** : Thanks guys, love you.

**Both** : Love you, too.

I finish my tea and sneak back into the room quietly, but Ben is already awake, rubbing his eyes and rolled up on one arm, looking confused. He looks exhausted. So adorable, but completely beat. “Hey babe, what are you doing up?” he asks through a yawn.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I tell him as I climb back in and cuddle up with him again. “Neither could Dad. We chatted for a bit.”

We lie facing each other, foreheads and noses touching. He rubs my back and I tangle our legs together, desperate for the sanctuary of his closeness. He holds me against him and we doze lazily in each other’s arms for a while. I think about what my dad said about marrying the one you love. I know we are young, Ben just turned 23 and I won’t for a few months, but we could get engaged and not get married for a couple of years. We could totally do that. I just want Ben to know that I am in this forever with him.

I shift my head back away from him to look at his face. His eyes are closed, and his face is completely relaxed. His slightly darkened skin blushed from our shared warmth under the constellation of freckles across his nose. I press my lips gently to his lips and his arms tighten slightly around me as his lips respond to mine. I pull back a bit and his soft brown eyes are gazing into mine.

“Hey,” he says.

“How young do you think is too young to get married?” I ask.

Ben’s eyebrow quirks and he rolls on his back with one arm under his head. “Well, I guess if you’re in, you’re in. As long as two people are of legal age and emotionally and financially stable, then I say go for it.”

I smile; it is small and doesn’t quite reach my whole face, but I love his answer. “My sentiments exactly,” I agree. “Have you ever thought about what you’d want? I mean in your wedding one day?” I play lightly with the hem at the neck of his t-shirt.

He runs his fingertips up and down my forearm. “Well, given that weddings and marriage come up in about a quarter of the conversations I have with Dylan, yes. I have,” he laughs. “It’s just really important to me that all our family and friends are there with us, supporting us. It would also be cool to incorporate quotes from our favorite books … or shows,” he adds pointedly.

My smile is fuller this time as I realize he has thought about marrying me, or at least he is now. “That sounds very cool.”

He smiles a crooked smile and moves a hand into my hair to play with the ends lightly. “What about you? Have you thought about it?”

I nod. “It shouldn’t surprise you a bit that I want one of those choreographed numbers at the reception,” I tell him.

He chuckles. “It does not. You wouldn’t be the man I love without the Broadway in your blood.” He kisses my forehead.

We are quiet for a bit, before he lightly traces my jawline with his fingertips. “How are you, Arthur? Really?”

I close my eyes, letting his touch settle me as I search for the right words. “I don’t know. Right this second, it’s like a dull ache, like a wound that’s still fresh but you can’t really feel the whole thing because it’s not being agitated… It gets poked by memories or thoughts. Her not being at some eventual future wedding, that hurts a lot.” Tears prick at my eyes. “I had always seen our moms giving us away like dads do for daughters,” I admit, looking down away from him.

He tilts my face back up to his with a finger under my chin. His eyes are pooled with tears. “I saw that, too, Art,” he whispers.

I bury my face in his chest and wrap myself around him tightly. We are locked together in a small and quiet moment of grief for a future moment we’ll never have. We sniff and hold each other and finally that moment of grief passes. I disentangle myself from him and push myself into a sitting position against the pillows next to him. I take a few deep breaths as he also moves to sit up. “So, yeah,” I say. “Still raw is probably the best way to say it.”

He nods and reaches out for my hand, which I give him and he brings it to his lips for a kiss just as my dad knocks and says that we have to be at the funeral home in about an hour. I call out an okay, still looking at Ben. “Guess that means we have to get ready.”

“Yep,” he agrees.

We both stretch and I groan loudly as I climb out of bed. We each throw on a pair of jeans and I put on a short sleeve button down with a subtle light gray paisley pattern on dark gray. Ben puts on a charcoal gray Henley that hugs his chest and abs in all the right places. Damn, he is too fine not to notice. I am wrecked with grief and exhausted, but my man is looking damn good.

I wrap my arms around him, dragging my hands up his back muscles as I pull him closer and lightly kiss his neck. “You look so good in that shirt,” I say quietly.

“Why thank you,” he chuckles, returning my embrace. “You’re lookin’ pretty cute rocking that French tuck if I do say so myself.” He kisses my shoulder and pulls back taking my face in his hands. “Where do you need me for this?”

I sigh deeply, “By my side, like you should have been the whole time at the hospital. I don’t know what I was thinking. We’re always better together.” I shake my head and look away from him. 

“Hey, look at me.” I do. “There is not a right or wrong way to go through this. You can say one thing and change your mind the next and we can pivot. It’s okay. I just don’t want to overstep at all. You and your dad can have as much space as you need to make the decisions you need to."

I nod and take a deep breath. “I’ll ask if I need input, but I definitely don’t need or want space. I am so incredibly grateful you’re here, Ben. Your support is the only thing helping me pull it together at all.”

He pulls me against him and whispers “I love you” softly into my ear.

“I love you, too,” I say into his chest.

We walk out of my room and Dad is waiting with a file folder.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Mom’s will. She was a pretty prepared lady,” he says sadly.

I nod and let him know that Jessie and Ethan are coming over later with dinner, so we don’t have to worry about that.

“That sounds great, bud.”

We get to the funeral home and most of our choices have been made for us. Mom had even filled out a funeral preferences questionnaire and the attendant said they could take care of that. The only input I had was that I requested a song to be played to finish the service. We settle on Thursday visitation and a Friday service. With the plans all made and set in motion, we head back to the house.

Jessie and Ethan are there when we get back with a whole smorgasbord from Panera. Large canisters of a couple different soups, breads, a platter of bagels and cream cheese spreads, stuff to build our own sandwiches, and an array of pastries. I wrap Jessie and Ethan in a group hug.

“Thanks guys. Thanks for everything, seriously, it’s above and beyond the call.”

Ethan squeezes my shoulder in a show of support, Jessie shakes her head. “You’re our best friend, Art. You don’t have to ask or thank us, we loved your mom, too.” I squeeze them tightly again and we all make plates before sitting down at the table. We update Ethan and Jessie on all the pertinent day and time information and once they’ve eaten, they head out with the promise to check back in tomorrow and tentative plans for breakfast at Waffle House. God, I miss Waffle House. Maybe a pancake coma will cheer me up… for a bit.

After they’ve left, Ben, Dad, and I are all still sitting at the table. “So, is there anything else that needs to be done?” I ask my dad.

“I have to call the family that hasn’t been notified yet, and we need an obituary. They said that someone at the newspaper can write it or we can have someone from the family write it, but whether we are sending details for them to write or a piece for them to publish, there’s an email in the packet on the counter to send it to. That’s pretty much it.” Dad scrubs a hand over his tired face.

I look to Ben. “We could write her obituary,” I suggest softly.

Ben’s eyes go soft and sad as he reaches for me. He takes my hand and swallows some of the emotion away. “Yeah, of course we can…” His voice trembles and his eyes brim with tears.

“Really? That would be such a huge help. Thank you so much, boys. She would love that you were writing it.”

**_Ben_ ** _– 8PM_

Later that night, we sit on the couch with Arthur’s laptop on my lap and we’re staring at all the basic information for an obituary, but I am completely blocked for anything else to write. Arthur’s head is on my shoulder and he is patiently allowing me time to think, but I know he is expectant that this will be one of my better pieces. He is trusting me with this. I groan in frustration and rake my fingers through my hair.

Arthur closes the laptop and slides it off my lap onto the coffee table. “Come on, let’s take a walk.” He grabs my hand and tugs me off the couch. We slide on shoes and Art calls out to his dad that we’re heading out and we are off.

The night air is cool, maybe 65 or so, with a nice breeze. Arthur slides his hand into mine as we step onto the sidewalk at the end of the driveway.

I take a deep refreshing breath as we meander down the street. “I’m really sorry, Art…” I say quietly, my eyes downcast.

“Sorry for…?” he questions.

“I’m just… I’m blocked and I feel like I’m letting you down,” I admit.

He lets out a surprised laugh. “Let me get this straight. You’ve essentially been holding my hand or my entire body for the last 24 hours WHILE buying plane tickets, packing, getting this week off of work, making sure I ate, and trying to help me sleep when I know damn well that you’re more fucking exhausted than you’d ever admit to me and YOU think YOU are letting ME down? Have you fallen and bumped your obnoxiously perfect head, Ben Alejo?”

A small smile quirks at my lips and I feel the tension leave my face and shoulders as I look at him. “I just want to get this right for you. For her.”

Arthur moves in and wraps his arms around me. “You are getting it right, Ben. if we don’t get it sent tonight, no one is going to fault you.”

Now I feel like a super-sized piece of shit. He’s grieving his dead mom and I’m worried about my insecurities as a writer. God, am I an asshole, or what? I press a kiss to Arthur’s forehead and take a deep breath. “I hear you” I say quietly. I turn with my arm around his shoulder to keep us moving. “Can you tell me about her?” I ask. “I only knew her in the last few months really.” I know it will probably be like tearing off a huge emotional Band-Aid way before anything has had a chance to heal, but I need to know her better to write anything that could possibly encapsulate the woman she was.

“Oh, um, yeah…” Arthur agrees, sadness returning to his beautiful blue eyes. We are walking by a playground and he asks, “Can we swing?”

I smile and we turn to head toward the swing set. There is a huge tire swing that could legitimately hold like 5 small children, so the two of us definitely fit. It’s like an old school tractor tire. I kick us off lightly once we are both inside and then swing my legs up to rest on the bottom half of the tire on either side of where Arthur is sitting. He pulls his up resting them underneath me, since his legs just barely stretch all the way across. He reaches his hands out to me and I wind my fingers together with his and the jumble of our fingers rests on my slightly bent knees.

Arthur takes a big breath and begins. He talks about how she was always a perfectionist, which is where he gets it from, and that made her a great lawyer. She was so dedicated to her cases and clients. She would take a case like the one she worked on when Arthur and I met maybe once a year, at most. Her real heart was in social justice lawsuits for groups of people who were treated unfairly. She felt as a Jewish woman, in the world we live in today, that it was her responsibility to stand up for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves.

As much as Art seemed to think his parents were headed for divorce when he was in high school, they had in fact loved each other extremely well in their 25 and a half years of marriage. She had always wanted more kids, but Arthur was a work of hormone shots and miracles. She had been a camp counselor at a camp in the Adirondack mountains and had actually kept in touch with a few of her campers. She was in a monthly book club that Jessie and Ethan’s moms and a few other moms from their high school were a part of. They started it to keep up with the books the kids were reading so they could help with homework. They kept it going as a sort of support group for moms.

He talks and I listen for over an hour. He tells me stories as we laugh and cry and I find myself so intensely grateful for this fiery, passionate, dedicated woman who raised the sassy, loyal, perfectionist sitting in this swing with me. When Arthur falls quiet, I stand inside the ring of the tire and catch him as he begins to fall back when the swing becomes unbalanced. He stands once he is able to catch his own balance and we are just holding one another in the circle of the swing. Art’s face is still tear streaked and blotchy, as I’m sure mine is, but when he looks up at me, through the sadness, there is a glimmer of a spark in his eyes. He lifts up on his tip toes wrapping his arms around my neck and he is kissing me with everything in him. His arms are a vice grip behind my neck, and I hold him around his back and around the back of his head with my fingers in his hair. I make a move to slow down and pull away because I think maybe this isn’t a good idea right now, but he tightens his hold again. He will not be denied and I don’t actually want to deny him, I want to give him what he needs, but we are in a public park after all, so when he lets go of me and reaches for the button on my jeans, I catch his wrists gently and pull them away.

“Babe, let’s go back to the house. We can’t do this, not here.” My voice is husky and Arthur’s eyes are black and wide with his desire. He can have my body however he needs it, but I draw the line at being outside in the middle of a neighborhood.

He takes a couple of deep breaths and shakes his head, “No, you’re right. Of course, we can’t.” His face still looks… angry? Frustrated? I can’t tell, but I don’t like where his mental spiral is heading.

We climb out of the swing and make our way back to the house. He looks dejected and he hasn’t said anything since we left the park, so I ask “What are you thinking?” I’d hate to think I’m making this any worse for him.

“I guess… I don’t know. I know we were in public, but you didn’t even get… excited, and I’m just more sensitive right now to rejection. You can say no, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t ever, but in my current emotional state it didn’t feel great.” He won’t meet my eyes and I shake my head as we get back into his house. I grab his hand, pulling him into the bedroom, and lock the door. Arthur looks up at me, pure surprise in his eyes as I walk to him stripping out of my t-shirt.

“There may come a day when I tell you I am not in the mood to make love to you Arthur James Seuss, but it is not this day.” I take him into my arms and do all he asks of me for as long as I can.

When we finish, we are in need of a shower, so we head into Art’s bathroom. As we step into the steam and begin to let the scalding water wash us clean of the day and each other, I do not let go of Arthur. We wash one another and we kiss each other gently on the lips, the neck, the shoulders, the chest. We no longer need heat and passion, but the comfort of closeness as the heat of the shower is relaxing our tense and tired muscles.

Once we are both clean, I shut off the water and we wrap towels around our waists. When we step out of the shower, Arthur pulls me to him as he leans against the vanity. He slides his hands up my back, sealing my damp body against his, chest to chest. I hold him just as tightly seeing that he is desperate for this skin to skin contact and I gently suggest that we sleep in just boxer briefs tonight. He nods gratefully and kisses me. “You always know just what I need,” he says quietly.

“I know you, Art. I pay attention. I get you,” I tell him softly.

We dry off and both pull on only boxer briefs. I lay on my back against the pile of pillows at the head of the bed and open my arms to him. He slides in next to me and settles himself against me, along the entire side of my body: his arm beneath him curls around and holds my shoulder under his head which is tucked into the crook of my neck, his chest is sealed tightly against my side by his top arm, which encircles my chest, and one leg rests against mine, while the other is hooked over it, yet another measure being used to seal us as closely as possible. My arm which is trapped between Art’s head and bottom arm, is around his back and my other arm is across my body so that I can link my hands against Arthur’s ribs, holding him almost as tightly as he holds me. I quickly reach for the comforter and tuck it in closely around us before linking my hands again.

Arthur presses a couple of kisses to my neck and whispers, “I love you so much, Ben.”

“And I love you more than words can say, my Arturo,” I murmur against the skin of his forehead. “Sleep now, love. I’m not going anywhere,” I assure him with a soft kiss.

Once he is sleeping nice and soundly, I grab my phone, careful not to move him. I turn the sound off to make sure there won’t be any annoying keyboard clickity clacks and I tap out the rest of Mara’s obituary having gotten all the inspiration I needed from our conversation on the swing.

**_Seuss, Mara Jane._ ** _Age 47. Mara passed in the early_

_morning hours of Tuesday, April 23 rd, at St. Joseph’s _

_hospital after a long undiagnosed battle with Ovarian_

_cancer._

_Those who knew Mara would tell you that she was an_

_incredibly dedicated individual to both her family and_

_her work. She was an advocate for justice for her many_

_underprivileged clients at Smilowitz and Birnbaum Law_

_Firm._

_Mara’s passion for the law was only but a shadow of the_

_l_ _ove she felt for her family. She gave all that she could to_

_ensure that her husband and son had all they needed._

_Mara always endeavored to care for those around her well,_

_while also setting the highest standards of excellence for_

_herself and others._

_Those who loved her are better for having had her in our_

_lives and we are lesser for having lost her so soon._

_We love her, we miss her, we will always remember her light._

I include a cropped down version of that picture I took at Thanksgiving where she looks so full of life and happy. I save the doc and attach it to an email to the address from the funeral packet. As I send it, I also send up a silent prayer that it is everything Arthur would want. I slide my phone back onto the nightstand and return my arms to holding him. 

I thank the universe that he has been able to remain asleep, Lord knows he needs it. As much as I hate to admit it, he is right and I am exhausted, but I regret nothing. Arthur needs me and so I am here in whatever capacity he needs: hand to hold, arms to hold him together as he falls apart, sex as stress relief, or obituary writer. I am here because I love him and I wouldn’t be anywhere else when he needs me. I couldn’t even imagine doing this long distance. Feeling and being needed, essential but not being anywhere close? That would have been torture for us both, I think as I fall asleep.

It must be a few hours later when I am jolted awake by the top of Arthur’s head smacking into my jaw. I shake myself and get my bearings. Arthur’s arms are still around me but his head is flailing wildly back and forth as he cries, “No, don’t take her, not my mom.” Tears are streaming from his tightly closed eyes and I pull out of his grasp.

I cup his face in my hands and lightly tap his cheek as I say his name. “Arthur, wake up, it’s a dream. Wake up, Art.”

His eyes fly open and he looks around realizing where he is and who I am. His face contorts as he rolls into the pillow and his weeping continues. He pounds his fist into the pillow and cries, “Nooooooo.”

I situate myself behind him, one arm under him, across his chest, holding his shoulder, the other holding him around his stomach against me. He clutches the arm across his chest with both hands and his legs curl up over my arm across his stomach. My lips work to calm him with gentle kisses and soothing words whispered in his ear. “It was a dream, baby. Shhhhh.”

“But she’s gone,” he sobs. “That’s real.”

“I know,” I whisper. “God, I’m so sorry, Arthur. I just love you and I’m here.”

“Don’t leave me, Ben,” he whimpers.

I hold him as tightly as I can. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” I rest my face against his and I’m crying, too.

Finally, Arthur breathes deep and quavering and lets go of my arm. I’m pretty sure I’ll have bruises. I’m 100 percent sure I could not care less. I loosen my grip and he rolls over to face me. “Sorry,” he says quietly. “For waking you up… and everything.” He wipes his tears from his cheeks.

“Please stop apologizing,” I tell him. “You never have to apologize for feeling your grief and I will never regret being in the thick of it with you. I may need you to kiss this chin, though. You really got me here,” I say with a smile as I move my jaw around with my hand dramatically.

He laughs wetly and pulls my face to his, laying a light kiss on the side of my jaw where his head got me. “All better?”

“Completely,” I say. “How are you doing? That was pretty intense, yeah?”

“Yeah, I don’t even remember the dream, it’s already gone, but it was about her… her… her death. It was so fresh,” he says.

“Arthur, it is fresh. You are completely justified in every tear you shed and breakdown you have. Pain demands to be felt and you’re feeling it with every cell in your body.”

He is quiet a moment and then says, “I love that movie. Remember when I thought I found Ansel Elgort?” he sniffs and I chuckle.

“Of course I do, silly boy.” I kiss his forehead and rest back against the pillows now that he is okay for the moment.

“Hey, roll over, I’ll be the big spoon and you can get some real sleep,” he tells me. This is new, but I do as I am asked, and we adjust the covers as I settle against him. His forehead rests between my shoulder blades and his arm holds me tight to him.

“I could get used to this,” I say contently.

“Nice, isn’t it?” he chuckles and kisses my back. “Go to sleep. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I say, holding his hand against my chest as I doze off.

When I wake up, I actually feel like I’ve rested as I stretch and open my eyes. Arthur is not in bed with me, so I get up and put on my sweats and a t-shirt. I grab my phone and see that it is barely 8 AM. I walk out into the living room and Arthur is curled up on the couch under a fuzzy blanket looking through a photo album.

I sit beside him and join him under the blanket as he leans into me instinctively. I see he is looking at family pictures from the late 90’s to the 2000’s. “Hey you,” I say, kissing his temple.

“Hey,” he says quietly as he flips the page showing pictures from a Disney trip when Art was seven or eight. He and his mom and dad had pictures taken with a plethora of characters and, while Mike seems to get more and more apathetic as they go on, Mara and Art’s excitement never wanes. They both look so happy. I run a finger over the picture of them with Woody and Buzz from Toy Story. Arthur takes a deep breath and closes the album, sliding it back onto the coffee table before cuddling more fully into me.

“How long have you been up?” I ask.

“An hour or so. I wanted to let you sleep.”

I tilt his chin up and kiss him lightly. “Thank you. You were right, I needed it.”

He nods. “My pleasure.”

“Can I show you something?” I ask. He nods and I pull out my phone, opening google docs. I tap on the file and turn it toward him. “I finished writing the obituary and sent it off after you fell asleep. Everything we talked about last night really helped.”

He takes my phone and I hold him as he reads, tears spilling freely. “This is beautiful, Ben. I love the picture, is it from Thanksgiving?” he asks as he clears his face with a corner of the blanket.

“Yeah, I had to crop your goofy face out of it,” I smile at him and kiss his cheek. “She just looks so full of life, happy and surrounded by family,” I say.

“Exactly. Thank you so much. I knew you could do it.” He presses a kiss to my cheek. “So, how does breakfast with Ethan and Jess around ten sound? We’re going to be pretty much stuck between here and the funeral home the next couple of days, I figured we should get out and hang out while we can. Plenty of time for wallowing in feelings while we’re alone.”

“That sounds good, but if it’s too much, we’ll come home. I do have my license now, I’ll be your getaway driver,” I offer with a smile.

A small but real smile breaks over his face. “Okay, thanks babe. Let me go procure us a vehicle and I’ll be in to get ready.” He kisses me and we both get up.

I head into the bedroom to start getting dressed and Arthur comes back in a few minutes later as I pull on my jeans. His face is red again and he closes the door. My eyebrows lift in a question. “We’re taking Mom’s car,” he says taking a deep breath and handing me the keys.

I look at the jumble of keys and keychains and I see it, right there in the middle is a keychain with the picture of Art kissing his mom on the cheek on graduation day. She looks so happy and proud. I slide the keys in my pocket and take him silently into my arms.

He sniffs as he presses his head back against the door. “Is everything going to be like this?” he cries angrily. “Every little moment and memory reduced to a puddle of tears?”

“I don’t know, Art, but you have to let it out as it comes. You can’t bottle it up.”

“I know… God, I know you’re right, but I’m already annoyed with myself for crying all the time,” he berates himself.

“Hey, do you mind being nicer to the man that I love? He **just** lost his mom yesterday,” I say softly, taking his face in my hands and tilting it up at me. “You get to feel however you need to feel right now. You don’t have to adult or do anything you don’t want to, and you get to ask for whatever you need. But you don’t get to be hard on yourself for needing those things,” I say.

He rests his head against my still bare chest and he takes several trembling breaths as I run my fingers through his hair and run his shoulders. I hope I am doing this right. I don’t even want to try and imagine what I would be like if the roles were reversed here. My family means everything to me. Once he regains his composure, we both finish getting dressed and head out.

**_Arthur_ ** _– Wednesday, April 25 th 9 AM _

Getting into my mom’s car is a grief spiral no one could have possibly prepared me for on top of the errand dad needs us to run. We have to drop off the outfit my mom will be buried in: her favorite blouse and skirt. We also have to pick up supplies for the dinner we are hosting at the house after the funeral, like we’re throwing a fucking party. I have to get funeral party supplies. Wake supplies for my mother’s wake because she’s dead.

This is what I’m struggling to wrap my head around as I sit in the passenger seat of the car and immediately tears spring to my eyes because I smell her in the air. Her perfume she would spritz on as she headed into work. I smell the warm sugar vanilla air fresheners she loved that would fill the car every time she took me to and from school until I got my car. She is in every molecule of this space and I am not dealing well as I hold on to the handle in the door and breathe deeply, leaning my head against the headrest.

Ben hangs the outfit Dad gave us in the back as I work to fight back the onslaught of emotion. _Come on Arthur, you can do this. You can ride in Mom’s car without totally losing your shit,_ I tell myself. Ben gets into the driver’s seat and, being the highly observant man that he is, senses my struggle and grabs my hand. He takes a look around and a deep breath. “Smells like her in here, doesn’t it?”

“So much,” I breathe, looking up and blinking the tears away.

Ben kisses my hand and reminds me, “If we need to come back, just let me know, okay? Whatever you need.”

I nod and we get on the road. Several tears manage to make their escape as the AC turns on and the air fresheners are blown anew into the car. I swipe them away and I feel her absence in my heart like a literal wound. I miss her with everything I am, but I’m getting used to this missing, little by little. I manage, somehow, not to totally lose it. Progress.

We pull up to the funeral home and Ben offers to just run in the outfit while I wait in the car and I gratefully accept this. We’re going to spend enough time here as it is. He is back in just a couple of minutes and we head to the Waffle House to meet Ethan and Jessie. I am sitting next to the window across from Jessie and Ben is in my booth, so Ethan sits next to Jess. We get all of our favorite foods and try to chat it up like old times. I ask what they’ve been up to and fill them in about working at Penguin. They tell me about work and the people they’re seeing: no one serious for now. As we finish eating, conversation lags a bit and Jessie reaches across the table for my hand. I place mine in it and she grasps it tightly, her eyes shining with tears.

“Have I told you how sorry I am, Art? God, I loved your mom… You remember when we’d come over to play or do homework on the weekends and she’d have these huge snack spreads all laid out? She always went above and beyond…” Jessie blots tears from the corners of her eyes.

I nod and brush away the many tears running down my face. “She loved you guys, too,” I say quietly with a sad smile. Ben slides an arm around my shoulder, and I lean into him as I let go of Jessie’s hand and work to pull myself back together yet again.

“So, we have to go to Target and get plates and cups and stuff for the dinner on Friday. You guys want to come? We can get Starbucks and walk around,” I say, seeking a modicum of normalcy in the shit-storm that is life right now.

“You know me, I’m always down for BullsEye’s Dollar Section,” Jessie agrees emphatically.

“I actually have to go to work, guys. I’ll see you tomorrow at the visitation, though,” Ethan tells us. We all get up and pay our bills before we head out.

As we are walking around Target, Jessie and I sipping on Caramel Macchiatos and Ben happily chewing on the straw stuck in his passionfruit lemonade, I begin to feel a little more like myself again. We select the supplies for the wake and Jessie insists we must go with Lavender and Silver because they are classy and not at all sad, just like Mom would have wanted. We get everything we need into the cart and then set about wandering aimlessly around the store. Jessie tries on hats and accessories, we buy random shit we definitely don’t need, but “might totally find a way to use someday” and I laugh, out loud and for real for the first time in over 48 hours. I actually am doubled over laughing. Jessie is wearing this hideous jacket with more pickets than a pair of cargo pants and a huge wide brimmed hat, working the aisle in the store like it’s the runway at Fashion Week. I truly feel like me again as I lean on Ben and we are giggling so hard we can’t see straight while we egg Jessie on as though we were her photogs. As we regain our composure, Ben’s arms slide around me from behind and he sings (a little off key) into my ear, “It’s good to see your face.” I smile wide and turn my head kissing him deeply.

“Oh my gosh, you guys are too cute! I may barf!” Jessie says with a smile as I pry my lips from his but stay in the circle of his arms.

“He sang a Hamilton lyric to me. What option did I have but to kiss him?” I ask with a sly smile.

We go check out and Jessie heads home. As we get into the car, I sigh heavily, resting my head back on the headrest. Ben twines his fingers with mine and gazes at me with a smile. “That was fun,” he says.

“Very classic me and Jessie, circa 2016-2019,” I tell him with a wink. I kiss the back of his hand.

“I’m glad we got to spend some time with them outside of everything else. Is there anything else you’re wanting to do?” he asks.

“Honestly, I think I’m going to have to call in my getaway driver. I’m having serious ‘curl up on the couch with my man and watch movies’ vibes. Is that okay?”

“That is incredibly okay.” He squeezes my hand. “We have season 5 of The Politician to watch,” he offers as he starts the car and gets going.

“Mmm, you know how I feel about a good-looking Ben,” I say a bit suggestively. He grins.

We head home and do exactly as we said. We get back into our sweats and we curl up on the couch watching Ben Platt become President of the United States in Netflix’s final season of The Politician. We snack on the pastries and bagels Jessie and Ethan left us and we cuddle and talk about the show. It feels so familiar and right, just like in our apartment.

Later that night, once we’ve finished bingeing the whole season, Ben and I head to bed and I can feel the joy that our life together brings me, but also the heaviness of my loss, our loss. I didn’t think those two things could exist together, but this day with him and our friends has shown me that life does keep moving. The more I cling to Ben’s strength and let him wade through my grief with me, the clearer it becomes that he is the only person I want for the rest of my life. We will go through a tremendous amount of shit in this life, but if we can walk through it together and offer the strength the other needs, we can make it through anything and come out happy on the other side.

Tomorrow and Friday are going to be especially shitty days, but I will be okay because Ben and Jessie and Ethan will be there. When you’re going through the darkest days of your life, you have to seek out the light so that you don’t drown. Our love is my light in the darkness.

_Ben – Thursday, April 25 th, 2024_

Thursday is a bit of a blur of faces. Visitation at the funeral home is all afternoon, but now that all the neighbors and family friends have heard, as well as both Mike’s work and Mara’s firm, there’s also a steady stream of people stopping by the house most of the morning. The number of pies and casseroles is overwhelming. Arthur and I have to start taking them down into the basement fridge because we run out of room in the kitchen.

The visitation is similarly steady. People coming in, expressing their condolences, milling about, and leaving. I won’t remember their names in the next hour, let alone tomorrow when I actually might see them again.

About halfway through the afternoon, I am lingering near Arthur as he has a conversation with some distant cousin and my phone buzzes in my pocket. When I look, I see Dylan’s name on the screen and whisper to Arthur I’ll be out in the hallway, showing him my phone. I don’t EVER screen Dylan’s calls anymore, not since that scare he had. I’m hesitant to screen any calls ever anymore. He squeezes my arm and says to say hi from him.

I answer the call as I walk out of the room. “Hey D, what’s up?”

“Hey Bennasaur, how goes it?” Shit. I didn’t text Dylan. What kind of shitty person am I?

“Well, actually, I’m in a funeral home in Georgia,” I say.

“Oh shit, Ben, what the fuck?” All pretense and comedy gone. I explain what’s happened and he is pretty shaken. “Shit… I can’t even imagine,” he says. “How’s he doing?”

“It comes in waves. Little stuff, memories and all that will send him spiraling, but he’s not pushing me away, thank God, so we’re getting him through it. Sorry I didn’t call, that was pretty shitty of me to leave the city and not tell you. I texted my parents but haven’t called them either. Damn, I’m batting 1000 on my end…” I ramble.

“Hey man, don’t worry about me. You just take care of our Seussical and we’ll get together when you’re back, have a low-key game night or something at your place.”

“Thanks D, love you man.”

“Love you, too Ben 10. My love to Arthur.”

As I am getting off the phone with him, Arthur comes out of the room toward me. I am about to express Dylan’s condolences when he essentially flings his arms around me and drops his head against my chest with a thump.

“I need a break,” he sighs.

I chuckle and lightly scratch his back. “Come on, there’s a lounge downstairs we can let you decompress in.” He nods and we walk downstairs hand in hand. “Are you hungry?” I ask as we get to the lounge.

He shakes his head. “I am Hazel Grace and I am aggressively un-hungry.” He looks exhausted. He’s a pretty solid extrovert and can legitimately make friends anywhere, but I’ve noticed that he needs some alone or quiet time every so often in order to be that way. He’s been “on” all day so far and it’s wearing him out.

“Got it,” I chuckle. “Come ‘ere”

I tug him to a small love seat and tell him to sit on the floor in front of me. He quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t have the energy to actively oppose my request. When he sits, I begin to massage his neck and shoulders, to which he groans loudly as his head falls forward. He gives in immediately to the relaxation that I have essentially forced on him. After about 10 minutes, my hands start to hurt and I slow to a stop, brushing his button down back into place where it has wrinkled.

“Where has that been all my life, Ben Alejo, and how do I get more?” he asks, leaning his head sideways against my inner thigh.

“You know exactly where these hands have been,” I say suggestively, and he lets out a single “Ha”. “But I would be more than happy to work out an even exchange when we get home,” I say into his ear, sliding slide my arms down around his neck and holding him tightly.

“Yup, yes. Let’s do that.” He tilts his head to rest it against mine. “Thank you, Ben.” He turns and my grip loosens to allow for a gentle kiss.

“Ready to head back into the lion’s den?”

“As long as you’re coming with me.”

I stand and hold out my hand to help him up. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” I say and kiss his forehead.

The rest of the afternoon passes even more painfully slowly as people slowly filter out of the visitation room. With no one actively seeking our engagement in conversation, Arthur and I are sitting on the couch up front, just holding hands and Arthur’s head is on my shoulder. A man walks into the room, greets Art’s dad, and seems to offer his condolences. Then he turns and sees Arthur and me. He sees how we are sitting together, and our hands clasped together and his brow furrows.

He approaches us, eyes tight. “Do you boys think it’s appropriate to make that kind of display at a funeral home?” he asks snidely. “You know you’re in The South, right? Not the big city.”

Arthur lifts his head and I don’t want to start anything, so I move to disentangle our hands, but he holds on tighter and shoots me a look that says, “Don’t you dare.” I do not resist; my fingers clasp back around his and he looks up at the man.

“I think it’s perfectly appropriate for me to be holding hands with my boyfriend while I grieve my mother who loved me exactly as I am and was pretty excited at the prospect of Ben one day being her son-in-law. If you happen to have a problem with me or my partner, you can take it up with her… oh, wait. Have a nice evening.” My eyebrow raises, impressed at the absolute zero fucks that Arthur has to give about this asshole. The man, likely not used to being on the losing end of this particular issue, gets very red in the face and storms out of the room grumbling something about “city kids”.

Mike, having seen the encounter, comes over and asks if we are okay.

“Yeah, but would you mind if we head home? We can warm up one of the seven casseroles we have at home,” Arthur says as we stand.

“That’s fine, bud. We’re wrapping up here. I’ll be right behind you.” He hugs us both and we head out.

When we get out to the car, I quickly look around to make sure that guy is gone and then I pull Arthur’s hand, spinning him toward me into my arms. I press him gently against the car door and kiss him breathless.

I run my thumb along his jaw as I keep my body pressed against his and say, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so attracted to you as right this moment. That was incredibly hot.” I kiss him again, more gently.

When I pull away again he says, “I just know Mom would have laid into him. It was such a dick move to do here, now.” He wraps his arms around me and we embrace tightly for a moment before we head back to the house. 

Later that night, as we are getting ready for bed, Arthur specifically requests that I do not wear a shirt to bed. When he comes out of the bathroom, he has a small bottle of baby oil and when he climbs in next to me, he tells me to lay on my stomach. He straddles my hips and then his oil covered hands begin to rub along my spine and over my shoulders. I can feel the stress and tension melt away under the pressure of his touch.

“Now who’s been holding out?” I joke as he works his thumbs over the area between my shoulder blades.

“I am a man of many talents,” he says suggestively and reaches for the bottle again. I stop him and roll over beneath him, sitting up and wrapping him in my arms. His fingers wind their way into my hair and he rests his arms on my shoulders.

I run my hands over the smooth skin of his back and look into his beautiful blue eyes and ask, “How did I end up so lucky? You’re in this unimaginable period of grief and you’re still making time to take care of me. You’re too good for me,” I say quietly.

He shakes his head and brings his forehead down to mine. “Ben, I’m the lucky one. You bring so much joy into my life, but I couldn’t possibly have fathomed the lengths you would go to making sure I was cared for during the most tragic fucking time of my life. If anyone is too good for someone in this moment, babe, it’s you.”

I shake my head. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on this one,” I whisper, bringing my face closer to his.

I brush my slightly parted lips against his and we are immediately sealed in a kiss. All I want is to be closer to him, so I grasp him tightly around the back and roll us so that I am lying on top of him deepening the kiss. Lips slide, teeth scrape, and tongues explore oh so familiar territory. Kissing Arthur is like feasting on the most delicious dessert that I can never get enough of and I never run out. He is always there, each morning when I wake up and every night when I go to sleep. He is there to hold and to kiss, to laugh and to play with, and to make love to. I hadn’t really considered the possibility of actually marrying Arthur until he brought it up the other day, mostly because I hadn’t considered myself the kind someone would want to marry. I guess I figured we’d just be together forever, but as I lay here pressed against the most beautiful, generous, loyal man I’ve ever known, who I could legitimately no longer picture my life without, it hits me like a ton of bricks in my oblivious face. Of course we’d get married. Of course we would want to be bound before God, the court, and our friends and families. I decide in this moment that I’m buying a ring when we get back into the city. We can wait a while for the wedding itself, but I need him to know without a doubt, that I want to be us and only us for forever.

I slow down the kiss and pull back. I kiss his nose and his cheek and nuzzle my nose against his face as we breathe together heavily. “I love you so fucking much,” I whisper.

“I love you more,” he challenges, adorably breathless.

I back up and grin. “No way, tie?”

“Tie,” he agrees, and I move off him to cuddle up behind him. We have a long day tomorrow and we’ll both need our energy. Our nightly routine stands as I kiss his neck and shoulder and he kisses my hand that is holding him before we settle into one another and drift off to sleep.

The following day we wake up together to Arthur’s alarm. He rolls to face me and tucks his face into my shoulder. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this, Ben.”

I rub his back with one hand and the sleep from my eyes with the other. “No one is ever ready to say goodbye, Art. All I can tell you is that I know you’re strong and I know you’ll come out on the other side of this day. I can tell you I’ll be right here the whole time.”

He clings to me more tightly for a long moment before we both get up and ready ourselves physically for what we could never be ready for emotionally. As Arthur tries futilely to get his hair to cooperate, I come behind him and loop my arms around his waist, rest my chin on his shoulder, and look at us together in the mirror. “You look great, Art,” I say quietly.

He lifts a hand to my face and closes his eyes. “Would she be proud of me?” he asks in a whisper.

My arms tighten around him and I turn my face in toward his so my lips are brushing his cheek. “She was so incredibly proud of you, Arthur. I saw it at graduation, I saw it in high school, I saw it every week on facetime. She loved you so much, babe.”

He takes a trembling breath and nods as tears pool on his eyelashes. When he opens his eyes a couple drip down his cheeks and he swipes them away. When he’s ready, I let him go and we go set up the kitchen for the wake later this afternoon.

_Arthur – Friday, April 26 th, 11AM _

Once we’ve finished setting up, it is time to go to the funeral home. As we walk in for the last time, I hold tightly to Ben’s hand. He stays close knowing how much I need him today, but he is quiet, and I know he’s not just sad for me. He’s sad for him. He’s sad for us. We haven’t even begun to feel the ripples of her absence in our future, but we know we will. I will. He will.

The funeral itself is, frankly, boring. There’s a lot of chanting of the Hebrew and we sing a funeral song, but at the end, before the song I requested is played, the Rabbi asks if anyone would like to share their own memories of my mom. I didn’t realize this was a thing, and now I’m frozen to my seat, not breathing. What if no one speaks? What if no one else has anything to say about my mom? Just as I feel the panic of this start, I feel Ben loosen his grip on my hand and stand. He presses a slow kiss to my cheek, caresses my face lightly, and then walks to the podium.

Ben clears his throat and begins. “Hello, my name is Ben Alejo. I’m Arthur’s partner.” I love that that’s the language he chose. God, I love him so much. My eyes brim with tears as he continues. “I first met Mara when she, Mike, and Arthur were all staying in New York for the summer. The Seuss family came to my family’s home for dinner to get to know us as Art and I began spending time together. We live in a small third story walk up in Alphabet City and even though I knew it was not what she or her family were used to, she had such a gracious spirit about our home and our culture. She was open and warm and simply wanted to know us. Over the years I had several opportunities to interact with her through Arthur and, if there’s something I know about her, it’s how much she loved her son and how proud she was of the man he was becoming.” He pauses and looks into my eyes. Tears are streaming down my face and his eyes close briefly, composing himself. “I also know that I, as someone he loves, was immediately welcomed as family with open arms. It is my hope and prayer that, as we all remember Mara, we would be so willing to open our hearts to those who happen into our lives by the grace of God or the chance of the Universe. There is a phrase in Spanish that is in one of Arthur's and my favorite show. In Spanish, Alabanza means to raise something to God’s face and sing its praises. Today, we raise Mara to the face of God as we say goodbye. Alabanza. Te amamos, te extrañamos, Nosotras te recordamos. Thank you.”

As he returns to me, I am a full-on sobbing mess and he wraps his arms around me as he sits. My dad is sniffling heavily next to me and claps a hand on Ben’s should in a show of appreciation he cannot voice in this moment. No one else gets up, so they begin the song and Ben Platt’s clear vocals begin to ring out over his simple piano melody as “In Case You Don’t Live Forever” plays.

_I have a hero whenever I need one_   
_I just look up to you and I see one_

_I'm a man 'cause you taught me to be one_

_In case you don't live forever, let me tell you now_   
_I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around_   
_In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth_   
_I'm everything that I am_

_Whoa... whoa..._   
_In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth_   
_As long as I'm here as I am, so are you_

In the last repeat of the chorus, I close my eyes and lean fully into Ben. He rocks me gently with the music as we cry together. All the words speak so perfectly to my feelings. I am everything I am because of who my mom was and as long as I am all those pieces of her, she’s still here with us. As the song finishes, a final goodbye to the woman who raised me, my face is buried in Ben’s shoulder. I am grasping his sweater and crying so hard my face hurts as he holds me tightly.

My dad’s hand on my shoulder pulls me gently away from Ben and into his own arms. He needs this moment with me as much as I need it. Ben’s hand remains on my back, letting me know he is there. As we begin to pull ourselves together, the Rabbi informs the guests of the wake being held at our house in a couple of hours. We stand as the funeral home attendants begin releasing the rows in the back of the room to come up and express their condolences. People move through quickly with short handshakes or hugs. Ben’s hand is in mine or his arm is around me the entire time. At the end of the line, Jessie and Ethan approach us and these hugs are longer, more drawn out.

“Are you guys coming to the cemetery?” I ask quietly.

“We can if you want, honey,” Jessie offers as we let go of each other.

“I’d like you there if you can be,” I say quietly.

They look at each other and then at me and nod. Ben squeezes my hand. “See? All you have to do is ask,” he says with a light kiss to my temple.

Ben and I ride with Dad to the cemetery behind the hearse and Jessie and Ethan follow. This part does not take long. We are led to her plot which is already cleared and a team from the funeral home carries the casket to it. We stand watching as she is lowered down and each of us sprinkle a handful of soil over her casket. We stand for a while, tears and sniffles from each of us. Eventually, Dad squeezes my and Ben’s shoulders and shakily says he’ll be in the car. I can’t seem to make myself move. We have to leave now, and she has to stay. Jessie slides her hand into mine on the opposite side of Ben and rests her head on my shoulder. Tears slide steadily but silently down my cheeks. I don’t bother wiping them away, more are coming anyways. Jessie squeezes my hand and Ethan squeezes my shoulder before they head out. I know we have to go soon. We have people coming to the house. I still can’t make myself move.

“How do I walk away?” I whisper, almost inaudible. Ben hears.

“You’re not alone, Art,” he whispers against my cheek, then lightly presses his lips against it. “She is always with you. You’re a part of her, so she can never really be gone, right?”

I had had this same exact thought during the song… “Right,” I say with a sniffle. I tighten my grip on his hand and we turn together to walk back to the car.

As we head back to the house, Dad asks, “So, when are you two planning to head out?”

“I was thinking Sunday,” I pause and look at Ben in the back for confirmation. He’s sitting behind my dad for a more direct line to both my hand and my vision.

“Yeah, Sunday’s good. I’ll book the tickets.”

“Let me,” Dad says. “We have a bunch of miles. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Are you sure? We can split it with…” Ben starts.

“Nope. I’m sure. I’ve got it covered. You know, I’ve been thinking about maybe finding a place up north. Moving closer to you guys.”

“Would you sell the house?”

“It depends, but this wouldn’t be for a while. I just wanted to throw it out there.”

I nod. It would hurt to sell the house where all of my memories with Mom are, but New York is home now. Ben is my home.

* * *

As we are unlocking our apartment, I take a huge sigh of relief. I am sad and I miss my mom, but the feeling of homesickness I’ve been feeling was for our life in the city and the home we’ve built here.

“Good to be home,” I say as we essentially drop everything just inside the door. Ben closes the door and deadbolts it and finally we are alone.

“Definitely. How are you doing?” he asks as he wraps his arms around my waist loosely. “I don’t want to just assume this okayness is going to stick.” His eyes tighten with concern.

“But I am,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck, lightly scratching his scalp at the nape of his neck. “I know there are going to be bad moments and even whole bad days, but I know they are coming and I know that I’ve got you.”

“Yes, you do. Forever,” he kisses me. We haven’t done anything but kiss in about 4 days, so when the low fire begins to smolder in my belly, I do not suppress it. I give in. I press Ben backwards into the wall next to our kitchen and pull my arms down to catch his sweatshirt and pull it up over his head. He catches up to my enthusiasm in no time and whips my shirt off, tossing it across the room. We stumble together, laughing and kissing the whole way into our bedroom where we close the door and express every ounce of love we have for one another.


	3. Part 3: Pop the Champagne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dramatic irony abounds as both of our boys purchase a ring and plan their moment. Just a few short weeks later, a new challenge arises and Arthur is called to step up for his man. Read along as Ben and Arthur fall more in love than ever through the ups and downs.

**Ben** \- _Friday, May 3 rd, 2024_

We’ve been home about a week and today, I told Arthur I was working until 7, even though I got off at 5. I hated lying to him, but I need this to be an absolute surprise. I walk into the jewelry store I pass on my way to The Strand every day and wander around until I find the men’s rings. There’s a line of them on the far side of the case that catches my eye. They all have blue in them, and they perfectly match Arthur’s oceanic blue eyes. They’re perfect, but I need a second opinion. I pull out my phone and Facetime Jessie.

“Hey Ben! What’s going on?” she answers, a little concerned given the last couple of weeks. Arthur’s been trying to keep up a brave face in their texts, but I think she’s seeing through it. He’s had a couple of very low days. Days when he couldn’t make himself get out of bed to go to work, so I called in and stayed with him, unable to make myself leave when I knew he wasn’t going to take care of himself. My team lead has been completely understanding and gave me digital tasks to do at home so I could keep getting paid, and I was able to make sure Arthur ate and showered and eventually came out into the living room where we cuddled up to watch a movie or show on the couch while I held him. We are both very fortunate to have wildly understanding jobs.

“Hey Jess, everything is fine. I’m not actually with Arthur. I need a second opinion,” I tell her.

She takes a deep breath. “Okay, but he’s okay right?”

“He’s… still really sad. He pretty much cries himself to sleep each night, but I feel like that’s pretty appropriate since it’s still so soon after the funeral. I’ve got that situation well in hand, Jess. I promise, I’ll let you know if he needs you.”

She smiles sadly, “Thanks Ben. So, what’s this second opinion you need?”

I heave a big sigh and flip so she’s seeing the front facing camera, which is pointed at the line of three rings, each with a blue design around the middle of the band. One is silver, one is black, one is charcoal with blue inside.

“OH MY GOD. YOU ARE NOT. HOLY SHIT!!!!” she screams. I cover my speaker so the store employees can’t hear her and blush a deep shade of crimson.

“Jess, please calm down. I’m in public. Which one? I’m leaning toward the one in the middle, but do you think he’d like the black or silver better?”

Jessie is sniffling now. “Oh Ben, he’s going to love whichever one you pick. I like the black with the blue. It’s like his hair color and his eyes in one. Also, it’s sparkly, and he is decidedly that.”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” I say quietly, turning the camera back around.

“When are you gonna do it?” she asks.

“Soon. We’re almost at a year of living together… maybe our anniversary? I know we’ll probably wait a while for the wedding, but he needs to know I’m in and I’m never letting go of him ever again,” I confess, a ball of emotion lodging around my vocal cords. I blush again and look down.

“He’s gonna say yes, you know that right?” she encourages me.

“Yeah? God, I hope so. I love him so much…” I bite my lip and blink away the tears betraying my emotions.

“And he loves you, Ben. Go get him,” she smiles.

“Thanks, Jess. I’m going to line Sam up as photographer, so look out for the pictures.”

“Sounds good! Good luck, hun. He’s gonna love it!” She smiles wide as she waves.

We hang up and I get an associate so I can put in my order for the ring. Art’s hands are kind of small and they don’t have the size in store. I head home and I’ll just tell Arthur they let me out early because we were super dead at the store. A little white lie that I can tell him about later for a huge surprise. Totally worth it.

**Arthur** – _Same Day, Same Time, at the Apartment_

It’s been a hell of a week. I went back to work on Monday, but only for half the day. I couldn’t hold it together and my boss sent me home with her condolences. Tuesday was better. I was able to hold out for the day, but when I got home before Ben and was truly alone for the first time since Mom passed, I was overcome with the weight of it. I texted Ben and asked when he would be home and it was going to be almost an hour. I laid on the bed the whole time, hugging a pillow and crying. I couldn’t make myself do anything else. When he got home, he did what he could, kissed me, made dinner, got me to eat what I could stomach, and then held me for the rest of the night. It’s only bearable when I’m working and so not thinking about it, or when he’s here to hold me together. He’s like my emotional butterfly band-aid helping me to heal. It’s working, but it’s slow and tenuous. The nights are the worst. It’s still like I forget she’s gone when I sleep. The dreams about the hospital and the cemetery all feel just as fresh as they did the day they happened when I first wake up from them. Ben is steadfast and hasn’t complained once about being woken up multiple times each night. He got me some melatonin on his way home yesterday and that meant I only woke up once last night. Progress is progress. He also gave me a very thorough massage before we went to bed last night. It was the most relaxed I’d been all week. Today, I felt mostly like myself again, but when Ben kissed me goodbye this morning, I could tell he was not quite trusting that I was doing better.

Ben won’t be home from work for another couple of hours when I get home, so I sit at my desk and open my MacBook. I do a Google search for men’s rings and find an overwhelming number of styles. There are literally hundreds of thousands of image hits. As I start to sift through them, a few have caught my eye. All the ones that remind me of Ben have some sort of wood in them. I don’t know if it’s his chocolate brown eyes, his sandy brown hair, or maybe even his splash of freckles, but the wooden rings are calling to me. I get a few up in different tabs and separate them so I can see them side by side. They are all well within my price range, so I decide I need a second opinion, someone who knows Ben just as well as I do. I pick up my phone and FaceTime Dylan.

“Seussical! How art thou?” he asks as his face pops up on the screen. He appears to be shirtless and laying in bed.

“Oh hey, is this a good time?” I ask with a laugh.

“But of course, any time is a good time, unless I was having sexy time with Sam. That would be the only bad time and I would not have answered if that were the case. Hey man, I’m so sorry about your mom.” His face softens from its usual aloofness and becomes serious.

“Thanks man…” I say, looking away, blinking heavily. “So, I need your opinion on something.” I change the subject. I have a purpose for this call.

“Lovely, I am a man of great taste and strong opinions. Lay it on me.”

“Well, I’m going to show you three options, and I need you to tell me which one seems most Ben to you. I have my favorite, but I want to know which one you think is best.” I flip the camera around and show him the screen. “So, which one?”

“HOLY FUCKING FUCK!!! ARE THOSE WHAT I THINK THEY ARE???? ARE YOU DOING WHAT I THINK YOU’RE DOING??????”

“D, I need you to chill. Those are in fact men’s rings and I am, in fact, planning to propose to your best friend with one of them, but I have to pick one first,” I reign him in.

A deep breath is taken, but his eyes are still wide as he focuses on the options. “Turn me landscape, Seussical, I can’t see them all.”

“Oh, sorry.” I do as he’s asked, and he thinks for a long moment. He actually STROKES HIS BEARD while he thinks and I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. He looks like he’s going for Socrates level wisdom in this moment.

“I gotta say, man, that one in the middle just screams ‘Ben’. A little rustic, a little fantasy. I love it.” He nods his confirmation.

“That’s my favorite, too. Thanks, Dylan,” I say as I hear a key in the lock. My eyes go wide and I wave silently before hanging up the FaceTime and minimizing the window on my computer. I get a text before I can get up.

 **Dylan** : GOOD LUCK!!!! Let us know if you need anything! We still on for tomorrow?

 **Me** : Yep, see you around 6.

 **Dylan** : Perf.

Ben comes in and puts his messenger bag down on the counter as I am crossing to meet him in a kiss. “Hey babe, how was your day?” I ask. “You’re home early.” I comment, looking at my watch. Didn’t he say seven?

Yeah, we were dead, so they started sending people home. So, good, because I get to come home early to you. How was yours?” He wraps his arms around me and looks expectantly into my eyes.

I can hear something… off…in his voice, but I don’t press it because I don’t want him to hear what might be off in mine. “Mine was good. Excited for the weekend. D and Sam are coming over tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, if that’s still okay?” The sentence is a question as he is rubbing a hand up and down my arm.

“Yeah, it’ll be good to see them,” I agree. He is eyeing me with caution, and I know it’s because I’m still having the nightmares. I lift myself up and wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my face into his shoulder. “I know you’re worried about me,” I whisper. “I’m okay, most of the time. I promise. It’s really just at night, the dreams…”

His arms close more tightly around me and his lips are at my ear. “You’d tell me right?” he begs my assurance. “If it was worse than that? If you needed something else?”

I nod into his shoulder and pull away to look into his eyes. “I think so…” I tell him truthfully.

His hands come up and link together behind my neck. His eyes are soft and sad, sort of puppy-like. His thumbs run lightly through the hair at the very nape of my neck and a bit of the tension of the day melts at his touch.

“I just… It’s nothing to be ashamed of… needing to talk to someone, needing meds. I just want you to be well, Arthur. You’re so exhausted all the time. You’re still barely eating. I know it takes time, but I want you to have everything you need.”

His eyes are so full of concern, I am suddenly emotional again. “I do. I have exactly everything I need right here,” I tell him, my hands on his face. “And that melatonin actually helped. I felt so much more like myself today.” I move in and kiss him deep and slow, more sensually than I have since the night we got back. I hear his breath hitch and his hands roam down my back. He picks me up and slides me onto the counter, pressing against me between my legs which wrap around his waist automatically as I moan softly into the kiss.

His lips chase his hunger along my jaw to my ear. He sucks gently on my earlobe before whispering, “Art, are you sure?” He is begging, he needs me as much as I have needed him.

“Yes, baby,” I whisper against the skin of his neck. He backs up, pulling me carefully off the countertop and we head into the bedroom. Ben is gentle and sweet in a way that reminds me of our first time that first summer. We are more comfortable with one another now, but he is careful with me in a way he hasn’t been since then. He makes sure I feel safe at every possible opportunity. He tells me he loves me and then he shows me how much he loves every inch of me. We rise together in a frenzy of kisses and moans and building pressure until we reach our release.

As our breathing returns to its normal rhythm, Ben asks quietly if I want to take a bath with him. We don’t use it all that often, but the bath really is big enough for both of us and we keep some oils and bath bombs around for the random romantic night.

“That sounds perfect,” I whisper. “Can we use the intergalactic bath bomb?” I ask with a smile. This bomb from Lush looks like a galaxy exploded in the water while it dissolves, and it smells like lemongrass. It’s my favorite.

He chuckles and nods, kissing my forehead. “Of course, I’ll go get it running.”

**Ben**

A little while later, we are sitting in the steaming colorful water with a couple of WoodWick candles flickering in the corner and some Ben Platt playing softly in the background. Arthur leans against my chest as I lazily run my fingers up and down his arm. I drop a kiss on his shoulder and nuzzle my face next to his. “You do seem to be more you today. I’ve missed you,” I whisper. This last week, watching him struggle and fight through his grief has been agonizing. Knowing I just have to let him go through it and be there for him however I can, but that there’s nothing concrete I can actually do, is hell.

“I know I’ve been kind of floating around in a fog, Ben,” he says softly. “But it’s starting to clear. I know you’ve felt pretty helpless, but you’re not, Ben. You help every time you hold me, or kiss me, or tell me you love me.” He winds our fingers together and kisses my knuckles.

I breathe a sigh of relief and press my face into his shoulder, wrapping my arms tightly around his chest under the foamy purple water. “I do love you, my Mighty Arturo. I can feel you fighting through the fog. I can feel you coming back to me, for me.”

Arthur turns a bit so he is on his side against me and holds my face in his hand smiling gently up at me. “I love you, too, Ben-Jamin. My hero, my best friend, my love. I’m right here. A little weary and broken, but it’s me, and I heal a little every day I’m by your side. If there was ever any doubt about us being forever, that’s gone now, for me at least.”

“I’m pretty sure that was gone the day you put a poster up at Dream and Bean, Arthur,” I chuckle wetly.

He smiles wider, real, and kisses me softly. We soak for a while, letting the hot water remove all our tension and stress. I think about the ring I ordered today as I hold his left hand in mine and know that ring will be on that hand forever as a sign that Arthur is mine, that he chose me, and I get a very warm and comforting feeling. I am not nervous; I am sure about every bit of our love for each other in a way I haven’t been sure of anything else in my life outside of my family and Dylan.

**Arthur –** _Saturday, May 4 th, 2024_

Last night as we lay in one another’s arms, I was once again struck by the ultimate comfort we have together. We are completely vulnerable to one another, but there is no one I trust more fully with every aspect of myself than Ben.

I am still wrapped in the refuge of Ben’s arms, my face tucked up under his chin when the alarm goes off. He has a short shift at the store today. He groans and reaches out to shut off the alarm, then returns his arm around me more securely. I tip my head just enough to press a kiss under his jaw. “Morning handsome,” I say groggily.

“Hey, you didn’t have any dreams last night?” he asks, still sleepy himself.

I consider the very sound sleep I seem to have gotten and shake my head. “I guess not.”

“That’s good,” he says, kissing my forehead.

Once we’ve had breakfast, Ben gets ready and heads out to work after a nice long goodbye kiss and a smile. As soon as he leaves, I hop onto my computer and the rings are still up in the windows when I click them back open. I select the one I’ve chosen and order it in Ben’s size. The site says it should take two weeks to arrive.

Perfect. Our anniversary is in three weeks. It’s on a Monday, which is fine, but sucks for a major anniversary/proposal plan. Okay. Saturday will have to do. May 25th is the day I’m going to propose to Ben. I’m proposing to BEN! I research nice restaurants downtown and settle on the Rainbow Room. I call to make a reservation and ask if they happen to have an event happening in their rooftop garden that evening. They tell me they don’t, as May is still pretty chilly that high up in the city. I ask if the space would be open to the public and available for a proposal and the hostess assures me that it is. I can hear the smile in her voice. I also ask her if there is a built-in stereo where I could have a song play and she assures me there is that as well and asks me what song. I tell her and I swear she is about to cry. She assures me that the song will be cued up and a staff member will be inconspicuously waiting to play it when we arrive a half hour before our reservation time. Everything is coming together! I smile once I hang up the phone and decide to FaceTime Jessie.

When the call connects, she is smiling brightly. “Hey Art! How are you?”

“Hey Jess, I’m good. I’m planning a little something I wanted to tell you about.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, so, I’m taking Ben on a really nice date for our Anniversary and I… well, I bought a ring, Jess…” I tell her.

Her eyes go wide and she puts her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, Art!”

“I know, right? Am I crazy?”

“No! No, not at all! Art, seriously, I am so happy for you! Can I see the ring?”

I pull up the image on the computer and zoom in, then flip the camera. “I love the detail and the wood, it just feels so much like him,” I say.

“It’s beautiful, Art.” She sniffs as I flip it back around. “It’s really good to see your face, hun. How are you?”

“It’s getting better. I didn’t wake up with nightmares last night. That was a first in over a week. Ben’s been worried, so it’s good that my brain is pulling its shit together.” I chew on the inside of my cheek.

“That’s good, right? I don’t think it ever goes away, but it’ll get easier to carry. He helps, right? Being with Ben?” she asks.

“So much… I have no idea what I’d look like right now, definitely a hot mess. If I were alone? God, I can’t even. I’d never shower, and I probably wouldn’t go to work… He doesn’t push, but he doesn’t leave either... Whatever I need, really. That’s why I’m proposing, Jess. I want him to be there through all the highs and lows, and I want to be there through his. I want to have a family with him.” I blink up and scrub my hands down my face. “Fuck. I just love him so much.”

Jessie slides her thumb under each eye and smiles crookedly. “I know you do, Art. I’m so happy for you sweetie. I have to go, though. I love you.”

“Thanks Jess, love you, too.” I blow her a couple of kisses and we hang up.

**Ben**

My shift at The Strand passes pretty quickly, but as I am packing up to leave and signing out of the system, my head manager finds me and asks if I have a second.

“Sure,” I tell her, so she leads me to her office and we both have a seat.

“Alright, so first, how is Arthur doing? I can’t imagine how difficult last week must have been for him,” she says with concern in her eyes. I have always liked Sadie; she really does want to know us as a staff and does her best to be a manager that lets everyone shine in the best way for them.

“He’s doing okay, he hasn’t been sleeping well, but I’d guess that’s to be expected for a little while. I worry, but he really is doing better than could have been expected.”

“That’s great, Ben. Well, you’re probably wondering why I called you in here, and I don’t know if you heard, but Andrew is leaving us. He took a position at Random House, so we are down a Fantasy and YA Section manager. I spoke with the other section managers and they literally all said you would be a perfect fit there. So, what do you think?” she asks expectantly.

My eyes widen slightly. I only just got promoted to Assistant Manager in January, after I graduated. This would mean a raise and a team of my own. This would mean I get to order the fantasy novels we carry and sort the fantasy donations we receive. I am a little speechless because it’s such a perfect gig. “I… I would love to. That sounds perfect for me. When would we make the transition?” I ask, still a little stunned.

“Great! We will have Andrew start training you Monday and then by the time he leaves in a couple of weeks you’ll be all trained up. Section managers work a little more stable hours, so you’d work 10-6 every week day and every other Saturday 12-4. We rotate section managers through Saturdays, as you know, so if you need to swap a Saturday just talk to the other section managers.”

“Sadie, thank you so much. This is such an amazing opportunity.”

“I have to capitalize on you now before you leave us when you get a book deal, kid,” she winks and shoos me out of her office.

“Have a nice day,” I say as I walk out.

“You, too!” she calls after me.

I hurry home, but I stop on the way at Levain Bakery on the way home and pick up 2 Double Chocolate Chip cookies and 2 Chocolate Peanut Butter (Sam and Dylan’s faves). When I walk in the door of our apartment, I call “Hey Babe!” and set the box on the counter. Art is at his computer and he closes it as he turns with a smile. It’s so good to see him smile and his big bright blue eyes shine as he walks to meet me at the end of the peninsula. I wrap him in a tight hug and press my lips to his firmly. “Guess what?” I say when I pull back.

He chuckles, sensing my buoyant mood, “I don’t know, but it’s good; you’re in a particularly wonderful mood.” He smiles and kisses me again.

“I’m getting promoted to section manager of Fantasy and YA lit!!!” I tell him excitedly.

His eyes widen and he smiles wider. “Ben, that’s amazing!” He wraps his arms around my neck tightly and I press my face into his shoulder. “I am so proud of you, baby,” he says quietly. “My Ben-Jamin.”

“I wouldn’t be half as far without you, my Mighty Arturo.” I pull back to look at him and kiss him gently. “Your faith in me helps me to be the best version of myself. I love you, Arthur.”

His smile softens and he presses his fingers up into my hair, bringing my forehead to rest against his. “I love you, too, Ben. You would have gotten here with or without me, babe. I’m just so glad I get to be here to witness your rise to greatness.”

“I don’t know about all that. Without you, I’d still be living with my parents and I’d probably be spiraling into a crazy lonely depression. You made the difference for me, Art.” I bite my lip to keep from popping out with the question I so desperately want to ask him right this second!

I take a deep breath and pull back with a smile. “Guess what else!”

“Yes?”

“I got cookies for tonight!” I say excitedly.

His eyes widen. “You didn’t! Levain???”

“Only the best for my man and my best friends,” I answer.

“You really are the perfect man. Mmmmm,” he says as he kisses me again.

“I certainly try my best for you, love. Let’s go, we have to get some stuff for dinner tonight, right?”

We head to the store and pick up the missing ingredients & toppings for fajitas. When we get back, we have a couple of hours before we need to start cooking as it is still only mid-afternoon. We find an Avengers movie on Disney+ and lay together on the couch. I am stretched out along the chaise and Arthur’s head is on my stomach as he lays down the main seating of the couch. As we watch the epic Battle of New York, I am playing lazily with his hair and massaging his scalp. This is the most normal and relaxed we’ve been together in a couple of weeks and my relief is profound. I can feel the tension I’d been holding in my shoulders and face, as I worried about Arthur, melting away.

When the movie ends, Arthur rolls over so he is looking up at me and says, “I was thinking about our anniversary in a few weeks. I thought we should go pretty big, like The Rainbow Room?” he offers.

I bite my lip. “Isn’t that place crazy expensive?” It’s one of the most romantic restaurants in the city, but that comes at a price. It might be perfect for…

“Yeah,” Arthur interrupts my thoughts. “But we literally never do it. I think once a year on our anniversary is a pretty solid splurge, don’t you?” He sits up so he is sitting next to me cross-legged. “You literally never let me spoil you, babe. Please?” he implores with his big, bright blue puppy-dog eyes shining at me.

How am I supposed to put saving money above the moment we want to create to celebrate one another? I’m not. “I think we can probably manage that,” I tell him with a smile.

His smile widens and he basically jumps on me, straddling my hips and kissing me with all he’s got. Once the very quick moment of shock wears off, my arms are around him, pushing his t-shirt up his back. The way Arthur shivers and moans into our kiss when I lightly run my fingertips along his spine is my favorite thing in the world. My excitement is apparent between us as Arthur hooks his fingers under my shirt and in no time at all has thrown it on the other end of the couch. He pulls back from the kiss and licks his lips before starting to lay a trail of kisses down my chest and stomach. He nuzzles his nose in the fine hairs of my happy trail and I am squirming toward him, every inch of me yearning for his touch.

“You’re driving me crazy, baby,” I breathe.

As he unbuttons my shorts and unzips them slowly, he murmurs against the sensitive skin over my hip bone, “That’s the point, love.” His breath against my skin when he chuckles could make me fly over the edge alone, if I didn’t have a better handle on myself so that I can enjoy this moment with him. 

Arthur moves my shorts and boxer-briefs just out of his way and then he has me. One hand laced with mine, the other spread out on my abs as he does all of my favorite things that his mouth can do and I am whimpering his name and that I love him and I beg him for release. He does not disappoint in this endeavor, and as fireworks burst behind my eyes, I faintly hear a knock on the door and my eyes fly open. Arthur, not one to leave a job unfinished, holds me in place and my eyes slide closed again while he cleans up after himself, then moves my shorts back into place.

“Holy shit, babe,” I breathe.

He licks me off of his lips and lifts up to hover his lips next to my ear. “Can I expect a return on that investment later?” He nibbles lightly on my earlobe and I nod emphatically. “Love you.” He kisses me just below my jaw and gets up. I do a cursory check of myself to make sure I’m still good and wonder if a Wall Street phrase has ever sounded quite so sexy, as Arthur slips into the bathroom, likely to brush his teeth. I have to admit, that boy of mine gives a really clean blowjob.

“BENNASAUR!! SEUSSICAL!!!” Dylan calls through the door with another pounding knock.

I hurry to the door, snagging my shirt off the end of the couch and pulling it on as I make my way to the door.

“Are you having sexy time without me?” Dylan yells through the door again.

I open the door with an impish smile and Dylan looks me up and down with a shit eating grin. “You were totally just doin’ it. You literally had to unhook your dicks, didn’t you?”

“Hi Dylan, good to see you, too. You gonna come in or keep yelling about my sex life in the hallway?” I ask with a raised eyebrow as Arthur comes out of the bathroom, a matching impish grin.

Dylan shakes his head and crosses the threshold, wrapping me in a hug. Sam is just behind him and Arthur catches her in a hug as he comes through the kitchen area. We switch, Dylan hugs Arthur and I hug Sam. When Dylan and Sam walk around the corner into the living room, I grab Arthur’s hand and bring him to me. I take his face in one hand and kiss him. Minty fresh, as expected. “I love you, too, you irresistible boy.” I kiss him once more and we both smile. He heads into the kitchen to start dinner and I go to Dylan and Sam to see what they’d like to drink.

As we cook and talk and drink wine (Sam and Arthur drink her sweet white wine while D and I prefer red) and eat our Levain cookies, I catch myself being completely entranced by Arthur’s smile. His resilience and determination to regain his happiness in the wake of his tragedy is inspiring and sexy and breaks my heart open for him all over again in the absolute best way. I love him even more in the light of his overcoming tragedy.

After dinner, Dylan and I are doing the dishes and Arthur and Sam are chatting on the couch. When I’m sure they’re not listening, I lower my voice and tell Dylan, “Hey man, I need a favor.”

He side eyes me, taking in my serious tone and nods, “Of course, B, what’s up?”

“Can you ask Sam if she’d be willing to be photographer in a few weeks when I propose to Arthur?”

For a moment Dylan looks confused and then understanding dawns in his eyes. “Holy shit! Yeah, man! Did you already buy a… you know?”

I nod with a small smile. The only nervousness I feel is about whether Arthur will like this ring or not. I pull out my phone, check that Arthur’s back is turned, and pull up the picture I snapped when I showed Jessie, zoomed in on the one I picked.

“Wow, that’s perfect Ben. I’m really happy for you,” he smiles brightly, maybe a little too brightly, but that’s D. Always up to somethin’.

“Cool, so just have her text me if she’s in and tell her that I’ll text her the time and place.”

He nods, still smiling like he knows something. I let it go.

**Arthur**

While Ben and Dylan are cleaning up in the kitchen, whispering about something, always thick as thieves, I seize my opportunity to ask Samantha if she would be willing to photograph the proposal.

“So, Art, how have you been? For all of Dylan’s… Dylaning, he knows Ben has been worried about you, so we’ve been worried, too.” Sam’s eyes are soft and expectant.

We are sitting facing each other, our legs curled up under us on the couch, glasses of wine swirling in our hands. “It’s better each day, a little easier. I can remember it without crying most days now. I actually slept a full night last night. I know he’s been worried. I hate that I’m stressing him out, but he really does make it better,” I tell her.

She gently pats my knee and nods. “Definitely. Not that this is a fair comparison, but if Dylan hadn’t been with me through my Grams’ funeral, I’d have been a melted puddle on the floor. For as much as those knuckleheads need us, we need them just as much,” she smiles.

I take a deep breath, look at “my knucklehead” and then lower my voice to a whisper to ask her, “Would you be available in a few weeks for some photography?”

“Omg, yes. Dylan told me you bought a ring that was so Ben he almost cried himself!” she whispers back. “Just text me where and when!”

I nod and we hear the boys head over, so we untuck our legs, allowing room for them to sit with us. Dylan, of course, splays himself over the chaise and my cheeks pinken thinking about what was happening over there earlier. Ben slides in against the arm of the sofa, his arm around my shoulders, my arm unconsciously moving to rest on his leg. He leans in and kisses me just behind my ear. “Can’t wait to pay you back with interest,” he whispers as I blush a deep tomato red. Over the past year we’ve had sex more times than I can count, but every time he says something suggestive to me, there is a visceral response from my body. Controlling it now is like a feat of herculean effort to keep myself from getting hard. I squeeze his leg tightly as he chuckles.

“You guys want to play some MarioKart 10?” he asks us all.

We agree and we play a few rounds. I do not do well, but I don’t even care because every time my car comes near Ben’s, all I can think about is when Dylan and Sam leave, Ben having his way with me, and I spin off the road.

It really has been a nice night with them here. Dinner was delicious and we always love spending time with Sam and Dylan, we’re just not usually quite so obviously horny when doing so.

**Dylan**

As Sam and I walk to the elevator, I am positively buzzing with the knowledge I have that no one else seems to. When the elevator doors close, I turn to Sam and wrap my arms around her. “They are proposing to each other on the same night,” I tell her, my eyes wide, begging her to understand.

Her eyes go from confused to wide with excitement and she starts giggling profusely, leaning against me. “Omigod, that is so perfect. Ben wants you to ask me to photograph, right? Arthur asked me while you guys were doing dishes. Is that when Ben asked you?”

I nod and kiss her. “I’m so excited for them. Keeping it from them is going to suck so hard, but I cannot wait for the moment they figure it out. That’s gonna be fuckin’ priceless.”

“And I’ll be there to catch it all with my camera,” she says excitedly.

**Arthur**

When they leave, I glance at Ben and make my way toward the bedroom, slipping off my shorts, pulling off my shirt. I hear his clothes dropping behind me, too, as he follows me. Ben luxuriates in every minute of driving me crazy. He kisses my inner thighs and inside of my hip bones as he teases and plays before he gets down to the “interest” he’s paying me.

Over the next few weeks, I do really settle back into my and Ben’s routine again. There are a few sad days, especially as we approach our anniversary. As excited as I am for my plans to come together, I so wish I had my mom to talk to about them. I’ve told Dad and Dylan will be going live on Facebook from my account while Sam photographs. He’s going to tag my dad as well as Ben’s parents in the video. I don’t want them to miss this, even though I need to keep it from them for now to surprise him.

On the evening of our anniversary dinner, as we are getting ready, Ben seems a bit on edge, lacking his usual seemingly endless amount of chill. I am anxious as I slide on my blue blazer over my pale blue shirt, deciding to leave my collar open, but it’s translating into a bubbly sort of energy for me. I have no idea why Ben might be anxious as well. He stands in front of the closet, trying and failing to button his sleeve on his black button-down shirt. I can see his face screwed up in concentration and hear him growl as he fails again. I smooth my hands over my light gray trousers and go to him, placing my hands on his. “Here, let me,” I say, taking over. “You okay?” I ask, as I drop his arm and it falls against his charcoal dress pants. My brow furrows a bit. These are new.

“Sorry, I just really want this to be a perfect night for us. Like you said, we never do this. I want it to be special,” he tells me, biting his lip. 

I smile warmly and lift up to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss the concern off of his lips. “We’re going to be together with a beautiful view of the city and amazing food. It’s going to be the perfect night, Ben. I’m so excited,” I tell him, caressing his face gently to calm him. “I also really love how your new pants hug your ass.”

He smiles and takes a deep breath and nods, seeming to have found some of his chill. “I’m glad you like them,” he says sincerely. I don’t know how I’m not more fidgety and nervous except that I am so sure of us, of what I’m asking him tonight. I am determined to be confident and sure in this step.

I kiss him and tell him I’ll meet him at the elevator. I head out of the bedroom, stop by my desk grabbing the ring box out of the top drawer. On my way to the elevator, I text Sam to be sure she will be in place on the rooftop garden. She confirms that she has just gotten to the building and is on her way up. I press the elevator button and order a Lyft before Ben emerges from the apartment and locks it behind him.

**Ben**

When Arthur leaves the apartment, I reach into my top dresser drawer and find the ring box I had carefully hidden under several t-shirts I don’t usually wear. I look at it one last time and then slide it into my pocket. When I get out of the apartment, Arthur is waiting as the elevator dings its arrival and opens. I join him and we ride downstairs holding hands. I know I’ve been jittery and weird all day, but I’m hoping he can forgive me once he understands why.

When we exit our Lyft and get to the elevator of the Rockefeller building where The Rainbow Room is, Arthur says, “So, we’re a little early. I have a surprise for you.”

My eyebrows arch high and for the first time, I wonder if maybe Arthur has some ulterior motive for this night like I do. My current plan is to get down on one knee during dessert, being wildly uncreative and unable to come up with anything more original given how nervous I am. Arthur has pressed the button that says RG and we go all the way to the top of the building. The elevator doors open and we step onto a stone path around well-manicured short hedges and flowers. There is a large, open, grassy area before some stone steps and a large reflecting pool on the far end of the rooftop. The spires of St. Patrick’s Cathedral shoot up into the sky next to the Rockefeller Building. The whole scene is bathed in the golden light of the sunset.

“Wow, babe. This is magnificent,” I breathe.

“I know, right?” he also speaks softly, trying not to break the spell.

We meander down the path toward the raised area in front of the pool and when we reach about halfway, he turns to me and smiles. Suddenly, I hear music playing from hidden speakers and Ben Platt’s voice is filling the air as “Ease my Mind” plays.

Arthur takes my face in his hands and sings to me as tears spring to my eyes. I pull him closer and rest my forehead against his as I listen to his beautiful voice. Tears spill down my cheeks and he kisses them away between the lyrics. His eyes shine with unfallen tears as the song comes to a close.

“Ben, when I met you in that post office, I knew the universe was at work and definitely not an asshole, but I could not have imagined its plans for us, baby.” He blinks up, trying to hold it together.

I see where he is going, and I am shaking. “Arthur?” I ask in a trembling voice.

He takes my hands in his and continues, “You made sure when I left that summer, that no matter what came of us, we had a future together which didn’t include us hurting one another and battering our hearts with a long-distance relationship. I cannot thank you enough for giving us both that time. I’m pretty sure we both needed it. But, if I have learned anything in the past month, it’s that time is an awful and fleeting thing.”

He kneels and my eyes go wide as tears fall fresh from my eyes. I don’t even see the ring as I kneel with him and kiss him. I pull the box out of my pocket and say, “You beautiful boy, you ruined all of my plans, but this is so much better,” I laugh wetly.

Arthur’s tears begin to fall now as his eyes look between me and the ring in my hand. “Well, shit,” he says with a smile as tears track down his cheeks. “Can we call it a tie?”

I nod and sniff. “A tie. You want to go first?” I offer.

He smiles. “Benjamin Hugo Alejo.” He gets the pronunciation perfect, just the right softness around the ‘j’. “Love of my life, joy of my soul, you are the only one I want to grow old with, build a family with, and do this thing called life with. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?” he asks.

“Of course, I will, Arthur.” He smiles and kisses me before pulling the most ‘me’ ring I’ve ever seen out of the box in his hand and sliding it on my left ring finger. It is a dark shiny metal, inlaid with a deep brown wood and designed with silver filigree around the edges. It’s a ring fit for a wizard. “Oh my God, it’s perfect, Art. I love it,” I say gently. I look back up at him and ask through more tears, “My Mighty Arturo, my sweet, extra, zero chill lover, will you make me the happiest man alive forever and become my husband?”

“My forever is yours, Ben. Of course, I will.” I pull out his ring and slide the black band with sparkly blue mineral inlay onto his steady and sure left hand. I take his face in my hands and kiss him desperately for what feels like forever. When we finally pull ourselves away from each other, we brush tears from one another’s faces and help each other up.

Distantly, I register that I’ve been hearing the sound of a camera shutter. I look over and see Dylan and Samantha pop up from behind a hedge. They are both grinning like the cats that ate canaries. “You asked Sam to photograph, too?” I ask with a laugh.

“What do you mean “too”? You did???”

“Of course I did,” I shake my head and kiss him again.

Samantha and Dylan run over to us. “Say Hi to your 10 viewers,” Dylan says, holding his phone up to us.

In unison, as if prepared beforehand, we hold up our rings and say, “He said yes!!!” I pull Arthur in and kiss him gently.

“God, I love you so much.”

“I love you, Ben. More than you’ll ever know.”

Dylan ends the Livestream and Samantha hugs me as Dylan hugs Arthur.

“You guys are the actual cutest! The actual dramatic irony of knowing that both of you were going to propose was killing us, but it was incredible, and I got so many A-MA-ZING pictures!”

She shows us some of the photos and she got every single amazing moment framed perfectly. I am pretty sure she snuck out from behind the hedges while we were crying and framed us up perfectly from all of the angles.

“They’re perfect, Sam,” Arthur says, in awe.

“Seriously,” I confirm.

“Well, Sam and I are going to head out. You two will probably be occupied for the rest of the night, but how about breakfast tomorrow? Our treat?” Dylan asks.

“Sounds great,” I say, looking to Arthur for confirmation.

“Yeah, definitely.” He smiles.

We give them each another hug and kiss Sam on the cheek, thanking them for their help. They head toward the exit and I pull Arthur against me kissing him deeply. He runs his hands down my chest catching sight of his ring and smiling wide. “This is seriously the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen, Ben. It’s perfect,” he says, his face full of so much emotion.

“I’m so glad you love it. It looks like magic and reminds me of your eyes,” I explain.

“Yours looks fit for a king, and I always want you to feel like a king, baby.” He winds his fingers into my hair and brings my forehead to his.

“I do, Arthur. Every day I feel like a king with you. I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” he challenges with a smirk.

I kiss him and say, “Tie?” against his lips.

He nods into the kiss, “Tie.”

**Arthur**

We stand near the edge of the building and watch as the sun finishes setting. Ben is holding me from behind and I am completely content in this moment. As the sun dips below the horizon, I turn around and kiss him softly and then we head into Bar65 for our reservation.

We indulge in extremely fancy food and wine and ask if we can take our dessert to go. As much as we’d love to eat it, we are both completely full and very ready to get home. We pay an extremely cringe-worthy bill and head home. We ordered a luxury Lyft (because we got engaged, so why not?) and warn our driver that we just got engaged so we’d be making out the whole ride, which is exactly what we did. The driver turns up the music at our warning. The drive home, with traffic, takes us almost an hour to get back uptown.

This is plenty of time for us to get completely riled up. Ben is by the door and I’m in the middle, so I turn to him, starting near his knee, I inch my hand up his leg as I kiss him gently. His hand is in my hair, holding my lips securely to his. My hand continues to inch up, sliding around so it’s against his inner thigh. He moans quietly into the kiss and I remove my hand, smiling wide against his lips. I break the kiss and drag my lips up his jaw to his ear.

“When we get home, I want you naked in the bed as soon as possible,” I whisper in his ear.

He chuckles low and brings his lips to my ear, “First one with their clothes off gets the act of their choice first?” Ben makes a playful challenge as he nibbles on my earlobe.

“You’re on,” I breathe, bringing his lips back to crush mine against them.

When the driver lets us off, I toss him a $10 in cash for dealing with us and we get into a mercifully empty elevator once inside the building. Once the doors close, Ben is pressing me against the back wall, his lips working up and down my neck, his excitement highly apparent against my stomach. I run my hands down his back and firmly grab his ass in both of my hands, pressing him against me. He groans loudly as the elevator opens and we rush our apartment. He has his keys out and is kissing me against the door as he fiddles with the lock until it opens, and we spill inside our home. He deadbolts the lock and we are racing. My jacket is off, and I am unbuttoning my shirt as quickly as I can while still kissing Ben. I realize this is not as much fun as undressing him and I reach for his buttons. “Fuck the race,” I say, “I love undressing you, fiancé”

“Shit, ‘fiancé’, I don’t think there’s ever been a sexier word in English or French,” he says as he untucks my shirt and kisses his way through my buttons, one by one.

**Ben**

We shed clothes throughout the apartment as we make our way to the bedroom where we proceed to celebrate our engagement in as many different configurations as we can come up with. As we lie skin to skin under the sheets, completely sated and holding one another, I am lazily drawing figure eights with my fingertips on his arm while Arthur makes similar gestures on my chest.

“How’s my fiancé feeling?” I whisper against the smooth, slightly damp skin of his forehead.

He looks up with a languid smile and kisses me gently under my chin. “Extrotally amazing and actually a little hungry,” he chuckles.

I grin,” Still trying to make ‘fetch’ happen?”

“Only for you, baby,” he winks at me. He moves away from me, but I grasp at his wrist. “I’m just going to get our desserts. I’ll be right back,” he tells me with a quick kiss.

I nod and release him. He slips on a pair of sweatpants and hurries out to the kitchen. I find a pair of basketball shorts and slip them on, then climb back into bed. Arthur is back quickly with our small boxes of Big Apple Cheesecake and a spoon for each of us. Instead of sliding back in next to me, he sits cross legged in front of me, hands me my cheesecake and a spoon then kisses me.

We eat and I ask Arthur to dream for me. “What does the wedding look like, if you could have anything you wanted?”

He considers the idea around a bite of cheesecake and smiles. “I think we should take the decor from our rings, blue, black, silver, wood.”

“I like that. Maybe even what we wear? It would be cool if we can include nods to TWWW and Broadway, where it all started,” I say with a small smile.

He grins. “If nothing else, it will be very us, and that will be perfect.”

I nod and smile wider, mischievous. I dip my finger in the puff of whipped cream on top of my cheesecake and swipe it on his nose. Arthur’s mouth drops open and his eyes tighten playfully. He very deliberately takes both of our containers and places them on the nightstand. He dips his own finger into his whipped cream and wags it suggestively at me. He smears it low on my belly and winks before dipping his head to lick it off, to which I make low guttural sound and grab his face. I pull him to me and we collide for round two, which is not our last for the night.

_Saturday, August 10, 2024_

Over the summer, we begin to gradually get plans in order. We celebrate with my parents after we get engaged and decide on a date almost exactly a year after our engagement. We have ordered save the dates and designed our invitations with one of those mass-wedding invitation sites. Something simple, not too outlandish. We are only having about 40 or 50 people in attendance, so we don’t need something crazy. We have started looking at outfits, and Arthur is trying to talk me into this really dramatic idea, when I would probably be fine in black. We’ll see how that goes. He seems really excited about it, so we’ll probably end up going for it. There’s not much I wouldn’t do to see my man smile.

For Arthur’s birthday, which we celebrated at my parents’ apartment, and invited Dylan and Sam to join us for Sunday dinner, we had Arthur’s favorite empanadas and Ropa Vieja over rice as well as a Tres Leches cake. Today, the Saturday after his birthday, he and I are planning to go to dinner and a movie to celebrate on our own. I get off the subway and begin making my way home from my Saturday shift at The Strand, but as I am crossing a crosswalk a couple of blocks from the building, a car begins to roll forward. Before I have a chance to react, I feel my knee dislocate and give way and then the side of my head explodes in pain as the world goes dark.

**Arthur**

I was expecting Ben to be home from work for our date night almost an hour ago, but he hasn’t called, and he isn’t picking up or answering my texts and I am starting to get worried. I call The Strand and they said he headed out as soon as his shift was over. I call Dylan and he hasn’t heard anything but asks that I keep him in the loop. Of course, I will. I sit, staring at my phone, basically pulling my hair out, for another half an hour when it finally lights up with Ben’s name.

“Ben??? Ben!” I say in a panic.

“Is this Arthur Seuss? Are you Ben Alejo’s emergency contact?” a woman’s voice on the other end of the line says.

“Yes, that’s me, he’s my fiancé,” I say, my voice trembling heavily.

"Mr. Seuss, Ben was just brought into the ER at Presbyterian hospital, he's been hit by a car. We don't yet know the extent of his injuries. He's unconscious, but he is currently stable and we're running tests and scans."

"I'll be right there," I tell her and get up grabbing my messenger bag, wallet, and keys, running out of the apartment.

On the way down in the elevator I call Ben's dad and he says they'll meet me at the hospital.

I call Dylan as I hail a taxi. "D, Ben's at Presbyterian, he was in an accident. I'm hopping in a cab now," I tell him.

My voice still trembles, but I'm not crying. I have to get to him before I can feel whatever else I need to feel. I can't let myself think about how bad it could be, or I'll lose it."

"Shit, okay. I'm coming. Sam! We'll meet you there, Art."

"Okay," I confirm and hang up as I get into the cab that stops at my raised hand.

I tell the driver where to go and then I text Jessie and Ethan in the group chat.

 **Me** : Guys, Ben's in the hospital. I know almost nothing except that he's stable and I'm on my way there. I'll text you with updates

 **Jessie** : Omigod, ok, we love you, let us know if we can do anything

 **Ethan** : Shit, man, let us know how he is

 **Me** : I will. Love you guys.

I have the money ready and toss it up front as I launch myself from the cab when it rolls to a stop in front of the hospital. I burst through the entry to the ER and go immediately to the desk, wild eyed and out of breath from running.

“My fiancé, Ben Alejo, was brought here, he was hit by a car,” I shake my head, putting one hand to my forehead, trying to catch my breath, still unbelieving that this is happening. The last time I was in a hospital, I lost my mom. This is not happening. The nurse turns to her computer to enter the information I’ve given her when I hear my name.

“Arthur??” I hear Dylan behind me and turn.

“Hey D,” I say, turning back to the nurse.

“He was just brought back from a CT scan, curtain 8.” She points around the back of the desk to a closed curtain in the middle of the wall.

I take a deep breath and look at Dylan and Sam. We walk together to get to Ben’s bed and when we slide through the curtains, I almost completely lose it, stumbling back at what I’m seeing. Sam catches me and keeps me upright. Ben is unconscious. The whole left side of his face is bruised a dark blackish purple that goes up past his hairline. His leg is wrapped from mid-calf to mid-thigh and propped up on a pillow. I put a hand over my mouth as tears fill my eyes. Dylan is bending over with his hands on his knees. Sam is down there with him, helping him keep the oncoming panic attack at bay as a doctor walks into the area.

“Are you Benjamin’s family?” he asks.

“Yes. I’m his fiancé and this is his brother,” I tell him.

“Alright, well, Ben has sustained a severe contusion to the skull and is extremely concussed. He’s been in and out of consciousness since he was brought in. He also did a lot of damage to his knee when the car hit him. This will require surgery and the extent of the injury will need to be determined with an MRI, but the largest concern for now is his head injury. We are going to keep him here overnight for observation as there is a lot of swelling. Currently, the scans look okay, but you can’t be too careful with these things. He’ll be admitted and moved to a room within the hour. I’ll refer him to Ortho for the leg. He will probably have to come back in a couple weeks to have the surgery, but it really depends on their schedule. Any questions?”

I shake my head and breathe deeply before looking at Dylan. “You okay?”

He nods, seeming better now that he has more information, but still looking a little green. “Come on,” Sam says. “We’ll come back in a minute, let’s go sit in the waiting room, baby.” He nods and looks long and hard at Ben before letting her lead him away.

I go to Ben’s right side, away from the damage, and sit on the small stool there. He has some minor scrapes and bruises on this arm, probably from falling on the pavement. Gingerly, I lift his hand and hold it against my face. I kiss it softly. He really and truly looks terrible. As the relief floods through my body that he’s going to be okay, tears begin to stream down my face.

As I more thoroughly inspect him, my eyes travel to his left hand, resting on his wrapped leg and there is no ring there. My eyes go wide and I immediately look for the garment bag under the bed where they’d be keeping the items that were with him when he was brought in. I plunge my hand into the bottom of the bag until I feel something smooth and round in my fingers. I pull it and his phone out of the bag. I put his phone in my pocket and the undamaged ring on my thumb. As soon as I am able, I’ll be the one to put it back on his hand. I breathe a sigh of relief and clear my cheeks as I take his hand back in mine.

I feel a gentle flutter of Ben’s fingers against my hand. “Ben?” He squeezes more insistently now, and his eyes aren’t open, but his face begins to grimace. “Ben, baby, what is it?” I keep his hand, but I stand and lean down close to his face.

“Ow,” he whimpers, so quiet I almost don’t hear it.

“I know it hurts, Ben. Can you open your eyes for me?” I ask, my eyes filling with tears.

He is able to open them just slightly and closes them immediately. “Bright,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

“Okay, that’s okay. You can keep them closed. Oh my God, you scared me, Ben. I love you.” I press a feather light kiss to his cheek, not wanting to hurt him in any way.

He squeezes my hand again. “Love you, stay” is all he can manage.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’m right here,” I whisper.

His face softens just a bit at that, and I hit the call button for the desk.

When the nurse comes, she has the doctor in tow, and I tell them he is awake and about the severe light sensitivity. I text Dylan and Ben’s parents that he’s awake but groggy and in a lot of pain. The doctor has Ben follow the light as best he can, squeeze both his hands, wiggle his toes, etc.

“Motor function looks good. We’re still watching that concussion, but all signs are looking good. Someone will be right down to move him to his room.”

I take my place back at his side and slide my hand into his, which he squeezes gratefully. I don’t know where this chill is coming from except that I know Ben needs me. I can’t let him down. I can’t think about my own feelings right now. 

Dylan and Sam come in quietly and Dylan stands next to me. “Hey Bennasaur,” he says quietly. “Gave us a pretty solid scare here, bud. I’m gonna need you to leave near death experiences to me, big guy.”

Ben smiles as much as he can. “Love you, D,” he says as loudly as he can.

“Love you, too, Ben 10.”

A team of orderlies comes to move him and tells us he will be in room 409. I kiss Ben’s hand and say, “I’m right behind you, babe.” As they wheel him away, I rub my forehead and take a deep breath. The three of us walk out of the curtained area and start to head for the elevators, but Ben’s parents come through the door then, and we all lock eyes. We meet halfway between where we were and the ER doors, my arms immediately opening to hug Isabelle. “He’s okay,” I whisper. “They’re taking him upstairs to observe him overnight, but the doctor said everything looks good for now. We were just heading up.”

“Gracias, Mijo. Let’s go,” she says, with a gentle hand on my face. She links an arm into Dylan’s and we all head toward the elevators in the main area of the hospital. As the elevator rises, I update the group chat with Jessie and Ethan. They both send their relief.

When we get into Ben’s room, a nurse is there giving him meds. The room is darker, so Ben is able to open his eyes a little more fully. “He’ll probably be out soon. I’m giving him some pretty strong pain meds. Only one of you can stay with him. Visiting hours end in half an hour.

Ben’s hazy eyes find mine where I stand at the end of his bed. I nod slightly. Like I would ever leave him here alone or not be the one to stay. His face relaxes and he turns to his parents. “Hey guys.”

“Hey Mijo,” Isabelle says, brushing his hair back from his brow and asking him what happened.

I hold onto the end of the bed, knuckles white, holding back tears as he groggily describes being knocked over forcefully by the car and the pain in his head that is all he remembers. I am also having a very serious moment of a grief spiral as Isabelle dotes on Ben and I miss my mom with a deep, gaping longing for her voice reassuring me in this moment. When Ben begins to doze off while speaking to them due to the meds, his parents head home. While I can tell his mom doesn’t want to, I assure her that I’ll call her if anything changes. Dylan, too, looks hesitant to leave, but he knows I’ve got him on speed dial. He pats my shoulder and squeezes Ben’s hand before they walk out.

Once they’re gone, I move the recliner in the corner so that it is right up next to the right side facing the head of the bed, and I find an extra blanket in a cabinet. I am extremely grateful I grabbed my work bag because it has an extra iPhone charger in it as well as my laptop and its charger. I plug in my phone and set it on the rolling table that is pushed up against the wall. I curl up in the chair and rest my arm on the bed in between Ben’s uninjured leg and his arm, gently brushing my thumb along the soft skin inside his forearm. He stirs gently and his eyes open just enough to see me sitting there.

“Hey baby,” he mumbles.

Even bruised and battered, he’s adorable. “Hey you,” I say quietly.

“ ‘m sorry ‘f scared ya,” he mumbles, almost intelligibly.

“Don’t apologize, Ben. It was an accident. Sleep, baby. I’m staying right here,” I tell him, but the emotion is apparent in my voice.

His hand reaches for me and I lean toward him, letting him touch my face as tears pool in my eyes. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, catching an escaping tear on his thumb. “ ‘m okay,” he says sleepily.

I smile, small and teary. “I know you are, Ben.” I turn and kiss his hand, taking it in mine and moving them both back to the bed. I hold on tight and he holds back as tight as he can.

“ ‘m gonna seep,” he breathes as his soft snores start immediately.

I clear the tears from my cheeks and keep a firm hold on his hand as I doze off next to him, exhausted from the panicky things my heart was doing before I knew Ben was doing okay. I am awoken a couple of hours later when Ben begins to squirm. I rub the sleep out of my eyes and sit up straighter in the chair.

“Ben?” I ask, grabbing his hand.

He turns his head toward me and opens his eyes. “Arthur?”

“Yeah, babe, what’s wrong?” I’m confused because he doesn’t seem to know where he is.

“Oh, oh right. Shit, the accident. Sorry, I guess I was pretty out of it when got here.” He shakes his head a little. “Oh, no. Ow. Can’t do that. Shit.” He stills his head and rests it back against the pillow. “How bad?” he asks, rolling his head so he can look at me without holding up his head.

“You tore some ligaments in your left leg and have a severe concussion. No internal bleeding, no broken bones as far as they can tell. It seems like the car just bumped you. Are you in a lot of pain? I can have the nurse bring more meds,” I tell him, rubbing his good leg reassuringly.

“Not yet. I mean, yes, I am in pain, but I don’t want to go back to sleep yet,” he says. “Can I have some water?”

I nod and fill the Styrofoam cup they brought a while ago with some of the ice water. I offer the straw to him and he takes a long pull, comes up for air, then takes another long drink. “Babe, you need to rest. You need to heal,” I say softly as I put the cup down. My lower lip is trembling slightly, and I bite it to stop it from betraying my emotions.

He squeezes my hand. “I’m okay for a bit. Was I dreaming or did I talk to Ma and Pa and Dylan and Sam earlier?”

“Yes, you did. Remember, only one could stay? I’d have gone to blows over it, but they seemed to sense that I wasn’t going anywhere,” I tell him, choking on the emotion building in my throat.

He lifts our twined hands to caress my face with one outstretched finger. “Hey,” he whispers, “I’m okay. A little dizzy, a lot sore, but I’m okay.”

“God, Ben. I was so scared. I thought…” I shake my head. I look down. I can’t say it. I am actively breathing to avoid straight up sobbing as tears track down my cheeks.

Ben lets go of my hand and gently tests both arms before scooting himself over to the opposite side of the bed and saying, “Come ‘ere, love.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” I hesitate.

“You’ll hurt me if you don’t,” he begs softly, eyes wide and watery.

His arm is open and the place where I fit perfectly against him is fairly unscathed by the accident. I gingerly lift up onto the mattress and settle myself against his side, sure to keep my arms on his right and not to fling them over him like I usually might. His right arm secures me, coming around and holding me around my ribs, his left hand reaches for me and I offer my right, winding our fingers together and resting them gently on his stomach.

“Hey, where’s my ring?” he asks, and I untwine our fingers to pull it off my left thumb.

“I fished it out of the bag of your clothes because I was worried about it getting lost,” I tell him.

“Can I have it back?” he asks quietly. “It’s like a piece of me now.”

I slide it carefully onto his hand and return my hand to his. He breathes a deep sigh of relief and rests his head against the top of mine. “Much better,” he whispers.

I consider my ring, and while I definitely notice the weight of it and hear it when it knocks against something, if that weight or presence were gone, I would feel like a piece of me was missing, too. It’s like I was always meant to wear this ring and marry this boy. “I love you,” I mumble into his hospital gown.

“I love you,” Ben breathes against my hair.

We are woken up a couple more times in the night. Around 4 AM, a short, peppy looking nurse named Jessica comes to take blood, and I learn something new: Ben has a pretty intense fear of needles. Like, it’s really bad. His eyes go wide and we hear his heartrate increasing on the monitors.

“Hey, shhhh,” I try to comfort him. He closes his eyes and buries his face into my shoulder while holding his arm out to her as I sing the chorus of “Remedy” by Adele in his ear. Jessica has to poke him twice because she misses the vein, and I could literally throttle her for being the cause of the pained whimper that Ben lets out as he grasps me tighter. When she is done, finally, and puts the tape over the cotton ball, Ben’s left arm comes around me and he is shaking like a leaf. “It’s okay, baby. She’s done. Shhhhh,” I caress the skin under his jaw, doing my best to avoid the heavily bruised left side of his face.

He takes a few calming breaths and then pulls his face away from my shoulder. He looks embarrassed and casts his eyes down. “What is it, Ben?” I take his chin gently between two fingers and turn his face back to mine. “Babe?”

“I don’t like feeling weak with you. I’m supposed to be the strong one, the one who isn’t afraid,” he says quietly, swallowing some of the emotion.

“Look at me, Ben,” I say firmly. He does. “I’m gonna say to you what you said to me a few months ago. This is what love is, baby. You’re hurt and you don’t need to be strong or ‘manly’ in this moment. I’ve got you. Take whatever kind of strength you need for as long as you need it. Okay? It doesn’t make you less of a man, Ben. Having fears makes us human.” He nods as tears brim in his eyes. I keep my hand low against his neck, but I pull him to me and kiss him gently. He returns it lightly, but winces at the strain in his bruised face muscles. “Sorry, babe,” I chuckle. “You okay?”

“I will never regret kissing you, Arthur. I don’t care how much it hurts,” he says as I settle back against him and we try and get back to sleep. “Thank you,” he says against my hair. “That’s actually probably the calmest I’ve ever been when a needle was anywhere near me.”

“Happy to help. Seriously, it’s good to know there’s a chink in the armor. That you need me for something just as much as I need you,” I say quietly as I reach over to the table for his water. He takes a long pull on the straw and hands it back to me. I also drink some before putting it back on the table.

He squeezes me to him. “It would probably surprise you how much I feel like I need you and your love in my life, Arthur. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You help me to have confidence in myself, you make me feel intelligent and strong and safe to take chances.”

I tilt my head up and kiss under his jaw. “I love you, Ben,” I murmur against his stubble.

“I love you, too, Arthur.”

We both fall asleep again soon thereafter and sleep until about 6:30 when a nurse named Leila comes in and wakes us saying she needs his breakfast order and she’s going to have to take out his catheter so he can start the discharge process. We look at one another with wide eyes. I hadn’t even thought about how he’d been going to the bathroom, but he’s probably just been ignoring it. I get off the bed and back into the recliner. Ben fills out the little card she gives him for the cafeteria, and she puts it in her card box sorted by room number.

“Alright, honey, this is gonna be really uncomfortable, but it’s a little like ripping off a band-aid, the quicker the better. Okay?”

Ben looks at me and there are a lot of emotions there: fear, embarrassment, incredulity that this is even something that’s happening. I keep my expression even, encouraging and take his hand holding it around his thumb and resting it against my lips.

“Okay,” he says, grasping my hand more tightly.

She exposes him and does something with a small lever or mechanism lower down on the tube and I look at him, but his eyes are closed and his head is back against the pillow. I drag my knuckles gently along his forearm and as she starts to pull he clamps down on my hand and clenches his jaw until she is done, which seems like longer than it should have been, but it was quick. Ben releases a long breath that he’d been holding as she covers him back up.

“There you go, good job to you, too, fiancé. Most gay couples I see in here, the other one has to leave. I’m impressed.” She smiles.

My brow furrows and I look at Ben, “I’m marrying him, I wouldn’t leave him just because something might be embarrassing.” It’s astounding to me that other couples would actually do that. Ben seems to have recovered from the removal and smiles at me.

“That’s a good way to start a strong marriage, boys,” Leila says. “I’ll be back in about an hour with breakfast, but I’m leaving you with crutches. You’re going to need to use these for a while, honey. Ortho will be in to talk to you around 9, but they’ve told us to get you into an immobilizer for now, this will keep you from moving your knee at all. Seriously, no weight bearing at all. Okay?”

Ben nods as she begins to unwrap the ACE Bandage that has been compressing his leg to avoid excess swelling. When she exposes his knee, it is a loud purplish color, much like his face, and it is about the size of a grapefruit, even though it was compressed. My eyes widen. “Holy shit, babe.”

“Yeah, that’s gonna suck, but it could have been a lot worse.”

“Definitely,” I murmur against his hand which I am holding more loosely now. I look up into his eyes and and quirk a small smile at the corner of my lips.

As Leila positions the immobilizing brace, having to manipulate Ben’s knee slightly, he swears under his breath and clutches my hand tighter, breathing deeply. She finally finishes, props the crutches up by the wall just in reach of the bed in the direction of the bathroom. She walks out and I carefully climb back on the bed, laying outside of Ben’s arm so that I can position myself in such a way that his head can rest on my chest and he curls into me immediately.

It is entirely disarming to see my six foot and some change fiancé curled into me like a child who is sick, drawing every bit of comfort from my presence. I press light kisses against his forehead and the top of his head and play gently with his hair while I hum Ben Platt and Lorde.

Around 7:30, Ben’s breakfast comes and I climb out of bed to check my phone.

 **Dylan** : Hey Seussical, let me know if you guys need anything. Does Ben need clothes to go home in? Do you need help getting him home?

 **Me** : Yes, actually. Both would be super helpful. You have the spare key, right? Can you grab him some sweats, boxers, and a t-shirt?

 **Dylan** : Absolutely. I’ll be there around 10, he’s not getting released any earlier, right?

 **Me** : Definitely not, ortho consult at 9.

 **Dylan** : Perf. How’s he doing?

 **Me** : His leg hurts, his head hurts, he’s tired. Feels like he got hit by a car.

 **Dylan** : Okay, I’ll see you guys in a couple hours.

 **Me** : Thanks D

I show Ben my phone and he smiles. “Dylan’s not quite so Dylan this morning, eh?”

“He was pretty scared, too, Ben,” I tell him gently.

He nods and I know he is recalling the several different times Dylan has been in the hospital and he himself felt helpless, especially that one close call while D was away at college. Dylan passed out while studying for exams during our sophomore year and Sam called an ambulance. When Ben FaceTimed me that night, he was reeling so hard. I stayed on FaceTime with him, rambling about random Wesleyan bullshit until Sam called in several hours later with the all clear. Apparently, he’d had both several cups of coffee and a RedBull (unbeknownst to Sam) to try and stay up studying.

After Ben’s finished eating and I’ve picked at some of his extra food, I help him crutch to the restroom, rolling his IV pole behind him. The Orthopedic surgeon comes in at 9 and schedules Ben for an MRI before he gets discharged to make sure he’s fully apprised of the damage, and surgery at the end of the week. I immediately go into the app for work and schedule the day off of work. Once he’s been scheduled for surgery, a nurse comes to take out his IV. He does much better with this, as he doesn’t have to see the needle and has mostly been able to ignore that it had existed.

Dylan shows up about 10:30, handing me a bag of clothes for Ben as orderlies are coming to wheel him down to the MRI in a wheelchair. They have Ben give me his ring. No metal near MRI machines and all that. Dylan pats his shoulder and I kiss him and say, “I’ll be right here. Love you.”

He squeezes my hand bravely and says he loves me, too, but I can see the nervousness in his eyes. Ben talked to his parents and told them they should come to our apartment tonight for dinner, and that they didn’t need to come back to the hospital. He’d be out soon anyways. Isabelle is reluctant but agrees when I assure her that he is telling the truth.

The 45 minutes he is gone feel like the longest 45 minutes of my life as I sit with my knees curled up to my chest in the recliner, playing with Ben’s ring on my thumb. When he gets back, he is extremely pale. The male orderly helps him out of the chair and onto the bed while explaining, “I think he got a little claustrophobic, he threw up once the MRI was over. He should be okay in a few. Drink some water, bud.”

“I was not claustrophobic,” Ben’s eyes tighten after the orderly when he leaves and he looks at me as I’m handing him a freshly full water cup and brushing my knuckles against his clammy cheek. “The machine was so loud, and the lights were so bright. My head is already pounding, the pain got so bad that I got nauseous. It was a spectacularly disgusting display.”

“Wish I could have seen that,” Dylan chuckles from the doorway as he brings in coffee for me and him.

“You feelin’ any better now?” I ask, gently pushing his hair out of his eyes and resting my hand against his face.

“A little. Definitely not hungry, though,” he says, sipping water.

“Okay. Do you want to get changed? Dylan brought you clothes from home.”

“Yeah, thanks man.”

“Don’t mention it.”

We close the door and I help Ben out of his hospital gown, finding a network of deep purple and blue bruises over his left shoulder and ribs. I lightly run my fingertips over them, shaking my head and pressing a kiss to the back of Ben’s neck. “We are so lucky this isn’t worse, Ben,” I whisper, hugging his right side from behind.

He pulls on his t-shirt carefully as his shoulder does hurt quite a bit, while I help him get on his underwear and sweats. We have to take off the immobilizer, put on his underwear, brace his leg with the immobilizer again, and then put the loose sweats over the immobilizer. The color has returned to his cheeks by the time we’ve finished, and he seems much more himself.

As I help him prop up his leg, I ask, “Is there anything else, love? How are you feeling?”

“I could really just use a Motrin or something for my head,” he says, pressing his fingers up into his hairline and wincing. “Yeah, that smarts.” We call the nurse and she brings him some crackers, milk, and Motrin 600. She comes back around noon with discharge instructions and a wheelchair. Mostly, he is to rest and not eat for 12 hours before surgery on Friday.

**Ben**

When the Lyft drops us off at the apartment and we get upstairs, I get as far as the couch before collapsing on the chaise and propping my leg up on a pillow. Everything about my body hurts, every inch of me is sore, but especially my shoulder which is both bruised and necessary to move while using crutches. There is also still a dull pounding on the left side of my head.

Dylan sits next to me and pats my shoulder. “Hey man, I’m really glad you’re gonna be okay. That was… not a type of fear I’m well acquainted with and I’m sorry that it’s just kind of something that lives in our friendship because of my heart.”

I look at him with a raised eyebrow and shake my head. “You’re such a punk, I’m fine. Love you, man, but you gotta bring back regular Dylan.”

He smiles crookedly and nods, “Alright, man. Love you, too. I’m gonna go and let your man nurse you back to health however he sees fit. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do,” I say with a smile and he pops a kiss on the top of my head.

Arthur is coming out of the bedroom where I’m assuming he was stashing our stuff and waves as Dylan heads out. He sits next to me, sideways on the couch, with one leg curled up under him. “What do you need, Ben?” he asks.

I smile. “A kiss?”

He rolls his eyes and leans down to press his lips to mine. It is gentle, but it’s more like us again. The pain in my head is localizing and the rest of my face seems to hurt less.

“Okay, silly man, what do you actually need?” he chuckles when he pulls away.

My hand still rests against his neck where I pulled him to me. “Who’s to say I didn’t actually need that? I don’t want you to get so focused on taking care of me, that we don’t take care of us, okay? I’m fine; I need help, but I will be fine, and I still want you to tell me what you need.”

He smiles gently, if not a little patronizingly, “Okay, Ben, I hear you. But right now, I want to make sure you’re good before I take anything from you. Do you need ice? Food? Water?”

I sigh. “Yes, no, yes, please.” I shake my head and hook his collar in one finger bringing him back to me for one last kiss.

Arthur smiles wider, seeming to relish in being needed and gets up. When he returns, he hands me a Contigo filled with ice water and a snack size ziplock bag of ice for my head, wrapped in a washcloth. He is holding a gallon size ziplock bag of ice, presumably for my knee. That countertop ice maker we got a few months ago is going to be working overtime, but I’m more grateful for it in this moment than I ever have been before. Arthur pushes up the leg of my loose sweatpants and undoes the immobilizer, which is almost a half inch thick foam and a metal bar along each side with four huge elastic straps that the cold from the ice would definitely not get through. It’s mostly for when I’m out and about or moving around a lot so that my knee can’t move even if it wants to. He gets the immobilizer off and leans it against the end of the chaise. I adjust the position of my leg a bit so it is more securely on the pillow and he pulls the leg of my sweats back down before settling the ice pack on top of it.

“You good? You’re not gonna wanna move for a while,” he confirms.

“Yes, now come here. If I’m stuck here, you’re going to cuddle with me,” I demand, well, beg.

He lays gingerly alongside me on the chaise, resting his head on my shoulder and gently laying his arm across my stomach. As my arm slots into place around his back, holding him against me, I breathe a sigh of relief and kiss his forehead.

My parents come over with dinner that night and as Ma helps Arthur clean up the kitchen, Pa sits next to me on the couch. “How are you, mijo?” he asks.

“Just sore, Pa. I’ll be fine, especially once I can start rehabbing this knee.”

“Don’t overdo it, Ben. Let your body have the time it needs to heal.”

“Don’t worry, Pa. Arthur’s being very cautious with how much I do and do not do. As in, he won’t let me do anything, really.” I chuckle.

“Well, listen to him. He loves you, mijo. Let him help.”

I nod and Pa leans in and kisses my forehead. This is something that probably hasn’t happened since I was a kid, but it’s nice.

When they head home, Arthur comes to me, one arm across his chest holding the other, the other hand up at his mouth as he taps his lips with one finger, considering.

“Yes?” I ask, wondering what he’s up to.

“Well, you need a shower or a bath and I was just trying to figure out which one is less likely to end in disaster. I’m thinking bath. Opinions?” he asks.

“A bath sounds really perfect, but maybe not a bath bomb, those can get slippery.”

He nods. “Got it, plain bath. I’ll get it started. You wanna crutch your way into the bathroom?” He hands me my crutches as I nod.

When I make it into the bathroom, the tub is filling with steaming water and the shower head is hanging down into the tub. I consider it for a moment, but ultimately don’t comment. It will definitely be easier to rinse off sitting down. Arthur is sitting on the side of the tub and when I sit on the closed toilet, he takes my crutches and leans them against the wall next to the tub. I take off my clothes, tossing them behind the door so they don’t become a hazard later. By the time I’m able to finagle out of my sweatpants and underwear, the bath is full enough. I stand on one leg as close to the bath as I can get and Arthur stands, offering me his arms to brace myself on. It’s a good thing our bathroom is miniscule, because I can now simply pivot on one leg with his help and sit on the side of the tub so I can swivel into it. I lift my left leg in carefully with both hands and swing my right over the side, then lower my body in gently with what’s left of my upper body strength.  
Arthur moves to sit on the toilet like he’s planning to wait while I take a bath by myself, but I have very different ideas about what should be happening right now.

“Hey, you’re not going to join me?”

He quirks an eyebrow at me, “You want me to?”

“I always want you to, babe.”

“Okay, but you have to tell me if it’s uncomfortable so I can get out.” He strips out of his clothes.

I nod and scoot forward. He slides in behind me, his knees bent up on either side of me and I lay back against his chest. My knee is still that blackish purple color and I can see that my left side over my ribs is also well-bruised. I can feel that the back of my left shoulder is bruised. Of course, my head still hurts, and I haven’t even seen my face, but mostly it’s the side of my head and my left eye that still hurt. Arthur puts his arms around me gently and I settle an arm around each of his legs and let the hot water work on my tense muscles.

“You okay?” Arthur whispers in my ear.

“This feels magnificent, babe. Seriously.”

“Good, I put some lavender and eucalyptus in the water, they’re supposed to help with muscle tension and promote healing,” he tells me.

Now that he says something, I can smell the light fragrance of lavender in the steam. I turn my head back and kiss him slowly. “Thank you,” I say into the kiss.

I settle back against him and he grabs our “Lord of Misrule” Lush bodywash and my black bath pouf and begins to lather it up and scrub my arms, back, and chest. He presses feather light kisses to my neck and behind my ears as he makes his way across my body. He hands me the pouf and I scrub my legs, gently around my knee, and all the private areas. Normally he might help with that, too, but we’re not really supposed to be doing… that, and his help always takes us there. As it is, his tenderness and care for me in this moment is a big enough turn on that I find myself hard anyways.

Arthur takes the small cup we keep in the tub and wets my hair down. Before he uses my shampoo, he asks, “Where does it hurt?”

I point out the large spot above my left ear and he nods, kissing me just behind it. His fingers move like butterflies over the large bruised area, it’s a wonder he’s able to get any lather there, but he seems to accomplish it. As he massages the rest of my head and neck, I groan approvingly. He applies just enough pressure to relieve pain and release tension. When he rinses out my hair and I’m clean, he puts his arms back around me and whispers, “Do you want me to take care of that for you?”

I know what he means, and I blink up at him. We both want to have this intimate moment and I wouldn’t ever turn him down, but I consider whether I think I’ll be able to handle it without tensing up my knee. I nod up at him. “Slow and steady, I don’t want to aggravate my knee,” I say quietly.

“Oh, of course,” he whispers in my ear then drags his tongue along the outline of it as his hand begins to move under the water with more gentleness and care than he’s ever touched me. I close my eyes and lean more fully back into him, luxuriating in his touch. Rather than a building pressure, it feels like I am melting for him as he brings me to the peak, and I am undone. He kisses me on the neck and shoulder and has me pull the plug to let the water out with my toe. “Was that okay?” he asks quietly, his arms draped around my neck.

“Baby, that was perfect, exactly enough,” I say breathlessly, holding onto his arms.

**Arthur** _Thursday, August 15 th, 2024_

Ben is able to work from home a few days that week, video conferencing with his staff about where things should go. He placed some orders and made sure they had what they needed as far as he could. His boss, Sadie, was very concerned about him trying to crutch around the store before surgery, especially with how much pain he’d been in and that he was still recovering from the concussion.

Thursday night as we are cuddling up in bed, Ben goes over the plan for tomorrow again. “I have to be there at 6, so we have the Lyft already ordered for 5:15, right?” I nod. “And you’re going to be with me in pre-op, right?”

“They said I can stay until you’re out, baby, and I’ll be in recovery when you wake up. You won’t even know when I’m not there,” I put a hand to his face.

His bruising is looking a lot better, having mostly receded from around his eye. His head still hurts pretty often, and he was sensitive to loud noises and light a couple of different times throughout the week, but overall, his concussive symptoms have subsided. The doctor called us yesterday and told us that, while the damage was significant, it wasn’t as total as they previously thought. He does have a tear in his meniscus and in his ACL, but it’s not completely separated, and his LCL is only heavily over extended, it didn’t tear. He explained that they could do the surgery arthroscopically and after surgery, Ben would be non-weight bearing for two to three weeks and come back for a check-up. He should be able to start physical therapy then. The surgery should take between one and two hours and he should be able to go home sometime that afternoon. He knows all of this, but the jitters are setting in.

He breathes deeply and says, “Okay. Sorry. I guess I’m freaking out a little.”

I lift my lips to his and whisper, “It’s okay, Ben. I’m right here,” before pressing my lips to his. He leans fully into the kiss, gathering me tightly against him. I slide my arms up around his neck and into the hair at the back of his neck, careful to avoid the still-bruised area over his left ear. He moans softly causing his mouth to slide open and our tongues collide unceremoniously. I do my best to stay present and grounded, so I don’t hurt him, but I know he is stressed and tense and needs an outlet for the pent-up energy. I drink in the flavor of him and the feel of him pressed against me. I suck his lower lip gently between my teeth and he groans. At Ben’s urging, we do what we can, knowing it will be several days before we can chance it again. “I need this, Arthur, please,” he begged. How was a boy to say no?

The alarm in the morning feels like it comes far too quickly. Ben wears basketball shorts and a loose Hunter University t-shirt and I am in a pair of track pants and a t-shirt with hoodies at the ready because that hospital is fucking freezing. I go to Ben sitting at the end of the bed and help him with his left shoe. When I stand up, he pulls me in and I can feel him trembling against me. I run my fingers lightly over his back and kiss his hair. “I know, Ben. I’m right here and I’m going to be by your side every second I can.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, nervously.

He gets his crutches and begins moving out of our room and toward the front door. I grab my messenger bag with all of the essentials. Both of our phones, extra chargers, my laptop, a book I’ve been reading, snacks for me while I wait, etc.

When we get to the hospital, he gets checked in and we are taken back to a curtained off area in the large pre-op room. He is told to change into the gown, but that he can leave his underwear on. I help him get into the gown and put his clothes into the bag they provide which I’ll keep with me. He has to remove all jewelry and accessories, so he hands me his ring and I slide it securely on my thumb.

Finally, a nurse comes in for the part that I know we’ve both been dreading. Ben has to get his blood drawn and IV put in. Her nametag says Sue and she sets up on the left. I stand from the chair I’ve been in, taking Ben’s right hand in mine and holding his face in my other hand. This nurse is older and she has kind eyes, so I ask, “How often have you missed a vein?”

Sue smiles gently and considers while she ties the rubber and wipes the alcohol swab on Ben’s inner forearm to prep for the blood draw, “I think the last time I did was… over a decade ago. This little girl came in with the jumpiest veins I’ve ever seen. They just ran away from me.”

I smile and look at Ben reassuringly. “That’s good, he really doesn’t like needles.”

“Oh baby, I gotcha. You’re in good hands. I’ve been a nurse for almost 30 years. You just hold steady with his beautiful blue eyes and it’ll be over ‘fore you know it.”

I press my forehead to his and he breathes deeply as my thumb moves gently across his cheek. I am softly singing “All That Matters” from _Finding Neverland_ and feel the wince when she pokes him but his breathing stays even as I sing and hold his gaze and she takes four vials of blood. She has pulled out the needle without any reaction from Ben and I am impressed.

“Alright, now I just have to put in your IV and you’ll be good to go. If you’ve got a request for your jukebox there, make it now.”

Ben takes a trembling breath, “No, he knows what calms me down.” His eyes are still on mine and I smile and squeeze his hand.

“Hmmm, I think we’ll throw it back to high school,” I say with a grin and sing a very quiet “Royals” by Lorde while still gently stroking his cheek. He’s mouthing the words with me and though his wince is noticeable, he’s with me in the song and still smiling calmly. When she tells us he’s good to go, I kiss him. “Good job, baby.”

“I can’t believe you remember how much I loved Lorde, I haven’t listened to her in forever,” he chuckles and kisses me again.

“Alright, I’m giving you some Ativan just to help you relax and your anesthesiologist and surgeon will be in soon to go over pre and post op care. Okay?”

I sit back down and we both nod. “What do you mean you can’t believe I remember how much you loved Lorde? Every time we were together that summer all you played was Lorde and Lana del Ray. My entire playlist from you was half them and half Broadway songs,” I rib him.

“I suppose that’s true,” he smiles, catching my hand and interlocking our fingers. “Love you,” he mouths.

“Love you more,” I mouth back and smile.

“Okay gentlemen, the cuteness has exceeded that which I can handle, have a nice pre-op nap, baby.” Sue pats his good leg and leaves our curtained in area.

“You are like valium all by yourself, you know that? Not even my mom calmed me down that way when I had my appendix out when I was 12,” Ben says, marveling.

“You said it, Ben. I know what calms you down. I know what riles you up, and makes you laugh and turns you on. I know you better than I know me. Loving you is like reading my favorite book every day but there’s never a final chapter. I just learn more and know you better and never get bored or tired of discovering your quirks and idiosyncrasies.” I hold his gaze, smiling gently, fondly.

I can see his eyelids drooping slightly as he says, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“10 more months. I can’t wait either, babe.” I kiss his hand and put it down as his head falls sideways on the pillow.

As Ben dozes, I pull out his copy of _City of Ashes_. He’s finally getting me into this series, and now I will have reading material for the rest of the year because Cassie Clare writes 3 books a year and isn’t showing signs of slowing down. When his surgeon, Dr. Tatka, comes by, he just asks if we’re clear on what to expect of the day and he makes some marks on Ben’s knee with a marker. I suppose it tickles enough that Ben wakes up a little.

“Hey Ben, I was just telling Arthur that we’re gonna have you back to the OR in about half an hour, okay? Your anesthesiologist is right behind me.”

Ben nods and mumbles his agreement but is snoring softly again before the doctor walks away.

About 10 minutes later a woman comes by and says she’ll be the anesthesiologist who will be with Ben today. I wake him up gently and he groggily pays attention. She explains that he’ll go to the OR as is, sleepy and out of it, and then in the OR, she’ll use the gas to put him out entirely as he counts. She will then maintain his unconsciousness through his IV and when it’s all said and done, he might be a little nauseous, but it should wear off within a couple hours of waking up and then he can have something to eat and go home.

We both nod. She calls over the orderlies and my heartrate picks up a bit. He’s still awake and even with the Ativan, I can see it in his eyes: This wasn’t the plan. I kiss him and whisper that I love him and kiss him one more time on the forehead before they roll him back to the OR and I make my way up to the OR waiting room where I will await his status on the screen. I am nervous. I don’t know how aware he was with what was already in his system. I can’t stand the thought that he’ll remember leaving for the OR with fear or that I somehow abandoned him.

This thought spiral is interrupted when Sam and Dylan walk into the room a few minutes later at about 8. I stand and hug them, hard, and update them. They ask if I want to go to the cafeteria with them and get some breakfast and I have already texted the number on the screen that is associated with Ben’s updates, so they will come to my phone regardless of where in the hospital I am. “Yeah, that sounds okay.”

On the way down to the cafeteria, I get a text that Ben’s status has changed from “TRANSFERRING TO OR” to “SURGERY IN PROGRESS” and I take a deep breath. We eat and make small talk, but I am driven to uncontrollable distraction. We head back upstairs and Ben’s parents are now in the waiting room. I hug them and show them the line on the screen that is Ben’s patient number so they can track him as well.

“How did he do in pre-op?” Isabelle asks knowingly.

I smile, “He did great. We kind of have a system worked out. He was really nervous, but he didn’t lose it at all.”

“Amazing,” she says with a smile and touches my cheek gently. “You’re so good for him, mijo.” She kisses my forehead and we all settle in to wait. I am reading, but I keep reading the same page over again for over an hour without ever really catching what the hell it said. All of a sudden, my phone buzzes and it says in recovery, one visitor allowed. “Okay, gotta go. I’ll let you know how he’s doing and when you can come back, okay?” I gather my stuff and rush out.

When I get to the room number they texted me, a nurse is there with Ben who is seemingly already awake. “Are you Arthur?”

I nod as I go to him and see he is still really out of it, but he does not look good. “What the hell happened?” I am not gracious in this moment, I’m terrified and have no fucks to give about being polite.

“So, the most important thing is that the surgery went well and was successful, but there were some complications with the anesthesia. His blood pressure dropped significantly and they had to push a different drug which worked well, but now we are pushing fluids to get the remnants of the the side-affects to subside. He should be okay in an hour or two. He can have water or juice when he wakes up, they’re right here.” She gestures to the table with two cups, one Styrofoam and one clear. “Hit the call button if anything gets worse, but we don’t want anyone else in here until he’s more aware and back to himself.”

I nod curtly and she leaves. I put my things on the chair and ease myself onto the right side of the bed next to Ben who is shivering and clammy as his head tosses back and forth. I put my hands to his face and try to get him to stay still and focus on me. “Ben? Hey, can you look at me?”

He hears me and his eyes do focus. “Babe? Why is it so cold? I don’t feel well.”

“I know, baby, you’ll be okay soon. I’m right here.” I adjust the blankets so they cover his arms and I lay next to him, resting my hand on his neck, feeling his pulse. As I feel it strengthen and even out about 15 minutes later, his eyes flutter open more aware.

“Hey,” he says hoarsely. “How’d it go?”

“Apparently there were some complications with your anesthesia, but I think you’re coming through the worst of it. The actual procedure was fine.”

“Is that why I feel like garbage?” he asks, swallowing loudly.

“Yeah, I guess you had an allergic reaction and they switched up the meds, but you’re still having some side-effects. Do you want water?”

He nods and I pull the table over to us, bringing the clear water with the bendy straw to his lips. He takes a long pull and then refuses any more.

“Where’s everyone else?” he asks.

“They’re still in the waiting room. The nurses only wanted one person in here while you were recovering from the anesthesia.”

He nods and closes his eyes. I scoot up a bit so that he can curl against my chest and he does so gratefully. He is still shivering some, but his breathing is evening out and over the next half hour he seems to regain most of his consciousness, but that’s when the nausea settles in. Lucky enough, they leave that ridiculous pink bucket out and in the open for patients recovering from anesthesia. When Ben sits up all of a sudden, I grab it for him and he throws up the only thing in his stomach, the water from a little while ago. I rub his back as he dry heaves and when he is finished, he grabs a few Kleenex and cleans up his face since it definitely came out his nose as all liquids are likely to do. He breathes deeply and must decide that he’s done for now because he lays back down.

“You okay?” I ask quietly.

“No, this sucks,” he says sadly into my shoulder where I am gently cradling his head.

“I know, Ben,” I rub his back and keep him covered up as he continues to shiver.

A nurse comes to check on him another half hour later and, in that time, he’s attempted water again and again every drop came back up.

“We don’t like to give anti-nausea meds because when the nausea goes away we know the anesthesia is out of your system, but if it’s not gone in another hour, we’ll give them to you because then the drugs are definitely gone. Some people really and truly just don’t react well to general anesthesia.”

She leaves and I shudder to think that he’s got another hour of this. We start having him take smaller sips and that seems to allow him to keep at least the water down. We try the juice the same way and that seems okay. A nurse brings a small assortment of easily digested snacks, Jello, pudding, chicken broth. Ben goes for the Jello, strawberry flavored, and it seems to be staying down for now.

Ben’s mom texts me around one and says that they both have to leave to go to work, they thought he’d have been out by then. I show Ben and he calls her, telling her that they should come over later when he gets home or tomorrow. She seems to feel better hearing his voice and agrees that they will talk about it and see him this weekend. I can tell it was difficult for him making it sound like he wasn’t feeling like garbage, but he didn’t want her to worry. When he hangs up, he immediately curls back into me.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, loving the color coming back into his cheeks. We’ve raised up his bed, so he is mostly sitting up and we have the Shadowhunters show playing on my laptop. I’m barely paying attention, as I closely monitor Ben’s improving demeanor.

He looks into my eyes and shrugs, sighing deeply. “I still feel like shit. Everything hurts, not just my leg, and I know I can’t, but I just want to go home and curl up with you in bed. But, my stomach feels okay for now. God, I hate throwing up…” he groans, scrubbing a hand over his face.

He looks so defeated and helpless. I pause the show and close my computer, turning to sit cross-legged so I can face him. I shake my head and solidify my resolve. “I’ll be right back,” I tell him, kissing his forehead.

His brow furrows, “Art?”

“I’ll be right back, I promise.” I climb off the bed and head determinedly to the nurse’s station.

The nurse there looks up and asks, “How can I help you?”

“My fiancé is keeping fluids down, he’s wide awake, and just wants to go home. We were supposed to be able to be home by early afternoon and it’s already 2PM. He hasn’t seen his best friend or his parents because you won’t let anyone but me come back here. He’s getting himself to and from the bathroom and every time someone comes to check on him they say his vitals look great. I want to take him home. What does he need to do to make that happen?”

She considers me and picks up the phone. “Can we get Dr. Tatka to come sign discharge papers in the PACU? Alejo, yes, okay.” She puts it down and says, “He’ll be here in 15 minutes to go over discharge instructions, I’ll be in in a minute to take out his IV.” She sighs and nods approvingly as I smile and thank her before walking away.

I text Dylan that he can meet us in the lobby because we are being released and might need help, then I walk back into the room, arms wide, and say, “We’re going home, baby.”

Ben’s eyes brighten significantly, “Really?”

“Yep, we can get you dressed, and your surgeon will be here to go over your discharge instructions in a few,” I explain as I sit half on the bed next to him and kiss his forehead.

“Mmm, wow. This take-charge attitude is really doing it for me, babe.” He smiles crookedly.

I wink at him, feeling pretty impressed with myself, as the nurse comes in to take out his IV. I take his hand in mine and run my fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck while she does so. He winces, but stays with me and, as she tapes gauze over the puncture mark, kisses me gently. “Thank you, baby,” he whispers.

“Anything for you, Ben.” I grab his clothes and help him into his shorts as he pulls on his t-shirt. “Are you still cold, babe?” I ask.

“Kinda, yeah,” he admits.

I hold up his zip-up hoodie and help him into it, zipping it and kissing him when it’s up most of the way. “Hey, don’t be shy about asking for what you need. I’ve got you,” I say, pulling him into a hug.

He holds me tightly against him and presses his face into my neck. “I love you,” he murmurs against my skin.

“I love you, too, baby.”

**Ben**

When we get home, I still feel like complete garbage. Call me a pussy or whatever you want, but I hate needles and hospitals and I just fucking knew something ridiculous was going to happen during this procedure. I hate showing fear in front of Arthur but being completely out of control like that is fucking terrifying. I am still in awe at how his touch and his voice could calm me down so easily. When I was a kid I would legitimately kick and scream, and they needed like four male nurses just to give me a shot. There’s just something about Arthur’s eyes, I get lost in them. They’re completely, disarmingly distracting, and he knows how to put them to good use.

As I crutch into the apartment, Arthur is close behind making sure I don’t fall. I was sent home with a locking knee brace and an amazing ice machine that Dylan is carrying in along with a 20 lb bag of ice he grabbed from the bodega on the corner before heading up. The fact that we are coming in at the same time speaks both to how much slower I am crutching today (trying not to throw up and all) and to how close the store is to the entrance of our building.

“Do you want to set up on the couch or in bed, babe?” Arthur asks.

I have stopped by the peninsula to rest on one of the stools, but I say, “Bed, please.”

“You okay?” he asks, coming to me as Dylan takes the ice machine into our bedroom.

“Yeah, my arms hurt,” I tell him. I roll my elbows back a few times to try and stretch them out.

Arthur puts a hand on my face and says, “If you’re feeling up to it later, I’ll give you a massage, okay? But we’ll keep it PG, I know you don’t feel well.” He smiles gently and kisses me.

When he pulls away, I am smiling a little, too, and I nod. “That sounds really nice.” 

“Alright boys, there is a fully functioning ice machine in the bedroom. The water is running through it and it’s ready when you are. Need anything else, Bennasaur? Seussical?”

“Just a hug from the first love of my life,” I joke with a chuckle.

“Awwww, Ben!” He lightly hip checks Arthur and we all laugh as he hugs me hard. “Love you, man.”

“Love you, too, D. Send Sam our love.”

He ruffles my hair lightly and claps Arthur on the shoulder before he heads out with a wave.

Arthur is smiling and shaking his head. “You ready to keep moving?”

I nod and we head slowly into the bedroom. We get my knee propped up and there is quite a bit of swearing involved as the local anesthetic has begun to wear off and I can feel it now. They sent me home in the locking brace but said to take it off while I was resting. Arthur helps me get it off and put the strap from the ice machine on over the ACE bandage holding the dressing on my leg. The cold immediately helps, but I still ask Arthur for some pain meds as I prop myself up on an extra pillow.

“If you’re taking pain meds, you have to eat something,” he says sympathetically, knowing how not hungry I am.

I groan. “Do we still have any Rice Krispies?” I ask hopefully.

“Yes, do you want sugar on them?” he asks with a smile.

“I’m hurt, babe, I’m not dead. But just a little bit,” I say, bringing him in for a kiss. “I’ll take all I can get of that sugar, though,” I say quietly, looking intently into his eyes.

He laughs, “I’ll be right back.”

He returns a few minutes later with a small bowl of cereal, a water bottle, a blue Powerade, and a bottle of pills. I’ve almost dozed off except that the pain in my leg is getting worse by the minute. I eat the cereal slowly, considering how my stomach feels with each bite. I only get about half of it down before I am legitimately full. Arthur is concerned it won’t be enough, but we’re going to have to chance it. He goes and gets the bathroom trashcan to have next to the bed just in case while I swallow a Vicodin with water.

Arthur climbs into bed from the other side, since I’m set up on what is usually his side, and props himself up on a couple of pillows right next to me. I lean into him so he moves an arm behind my shoulders and his hand into my hair. The goose egg on the side of my head is pretty much gone, but his fingers stutter over it as he lightly massages my scalp. In about 20 minutes, the pain in my leg begins to dull and I start to get really sleepy. Art takes my extra pillow and helps me scoot so I am laying down, which is a lot more of a production with the whole leg/pillow/ice machine situation I have happening. Finally, I am comfortable and far enough onto my side, supported by Arthur’s body, that I can fall asleep as he hums “Only Us” from Dear Evan Hansen softly while nuzzling my hair with his nose. As I begin to cross into unconsciousness, I am struck yet again by how perfect of a match we are. The Universe certainly knew what it was doing with us. I sigh contentedly and fall asleep against my love.

By the end of the weekend, the flu-like side-effects of the anesthesia have worn off and I am feeling like myself again. After a couple of weeks, my surgeon refers me to a physical therapist only a couple of blocks from our apartment. I have been able to get back to work on my crutches, and even though I don’t love spending the money, Arthur convinced me to Lyft instead of crutching to and from the subway for the three to four weeks until I can be weight bearing on my knee.

“Ben, you’re going to face enough challenges in rehab and getting back on your feet, I don’t want you getting to work to be one of them,” he told me. “I’d also very much like a functioning fiancé when I get home at the end of the day and if you’re crutching to and from the subway twice a day, and all day at the bookstore, you’re going to be utterly useless to me at night.”

I could not argue with his logic or his motivation. We could have so easily lost the entire future we are planning for, but we didn’t, and we need to appreciate the blessing that is. I agreed with him and then we spent the evening proving that I am decidedly not useless, even with a busted knee.

Arthur asks that I schedule my PT appointments, which are twice a week, in the evenings when he can join me. He is seriously the biggest motivator I have. He reminds me that I have to work hard if I want to walk confidently down the aisle at our wedding, if I want to get back to taking the Subway like a real New Yorker, if I want to be the best husband for him that I can possibly be. Sometimes he does the exercises with me; sometimes he’s just there to make sure I don’t fall on my face and to encourage me to keep going with his words or his kisses. The therapists at the office we go to say they’ve never seen a partner so dedicated to their significant other’s recovery and they are really impressed by my progress. Only 6 weeks after surgery, I am off crutches entirely and while I still limp slightly at the end of a long day, I am back on the subway, and back to rocking Arthur’s world as often as I can. Though crosswalks still cause my heart to race and I’m having nightmares several times a week about the car and the surgery. I’m okay, though, I think.

Arthur took my request to make sure he took care of not just me, but us, very seriously while I was laid up. He would order in our favorite foods and we’d curl up with a movie, or he’d light candles and play music while we took baths together, just like we would have if I wasn’t hurt. While he did sympathize with my pain, I never felt like he pitied me for the injury or the struggle. He has supported me and pushed me and built me up when I felt like I couldn’t keep going, which has made me fall even more in love with him and made me even more intensely sure that I am with my forever person.


	4. Part 4: "We're Home"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Arthur finally reach their wedding day! Follow our boys through setup and their big day, as well as a snapshot of highlights from their honeymoon. 
> 
> **Seeing as there is a wedding, there are quite a few more intimate moments in this section than previous sections. Just FYI**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To view all wedding materials including Ben and Arthur's notes to one another in "their own handwriting" as well as their outfits and other inspiration, please open this Slides presentation. 
> 
> https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1G1p_6fkufQmBoza1hI1ZZBcRhYFGHV5DO4rDx2SZD7c/edit?usp=sharing

**Arthur:** _Thursday, May 22 nd, 2025_

Ben and I are now only two days out from the wedding, and we’ll be returning home from our honeymoon on our second anniversary. Things could not possibly have lined up more perfectly, but I’m feeling a pretty heavy weight knowing how all of this came together so well.

First, the driver who hit Ben was determined to be at fault, as she admitted to having been texting when she took her foot off the break and hit him. She wrote him a long and heartfelt note of apology and her insurance company settled with Ben for the entire cost of his medical care, something close to 60k and an additional 50k in personal damages. We went to court with all of Ben’s medical expenses and a letter from his boss stating that his performance at work had been significantly reduced and personal statements from myself and Dylan about the overall hardship Ben faced. That was a hard day, but when the verdict came in awarding Ben the money, we held each other and cried because somehow it felt like all of the struggle and the hours of PT and the shitty reaction to the anesthesia and the newfound fear of crosswalks he’s developed (consequently making him feel like a bad New Yorker again) would be able to bring something good to our life.

The medical costs were paid directly to the hospital and the other 50k comes in monthly installments over 5 years. When we started getting monthly settlement checks of over $800, Ben was insistent that we use the money for honeymoon, so we set up a separate account and directly deposited them there.

The rest of our wedding fund was a blessing I could never have expected. I came out to my parents during my junior year of high school and they were very cool about it, but never in my life would I have expected my mom to change how she prepared for my future because I was gay. In November, the lawyer called my dad and my dad called me because they found that my mom had set up a fund. See, in traditional weddings, a wife’s family might take the brunt of the cost of the wedding, but that’s obviously not true of a wedding with two grooms. My mom, unbeknownst to my father, in addition to my college fund, began to squirrel away a couple hundred dollars a month in what she listed in a small, easily missed section of her will as Arthur’s Wedding Fund. As I sat on the couch facetiming my dad, Ben held me as tears poured down my face. I was both so grateful for who she was and so sad she wasn’t here in that moment, that I actually asked my dad if it was okay if we used it.

“Of course you’re using it Arthur. It’s yours. It’s in your name and your mom wanted you to have it. With interest, there’s about 15 thousand dollars in the account. Use it for the wedding, the honeymoon, whatever you need it for, Art. It’s there for you. I’m sending you everything you need to access it by certified mail today. I love you, bud. I know Mom would have wanted this to be as amazing as you and she could make it.” He smiled and wiped tears from his face with his thumb as we said our “I love you”s and hung up. Then Ben and I had a pretty cathartic cry together as we realized what this meant for our day and the added security we had because we had this money.

Once we got the paperwork, just before Thanksgiving, we used a bit of it to book a gorgeous outdoor wedding venue about an hour north of Manhattan. When we took a train up on the Saturday before Thanksgiving to tour The Powelton Club, we stood in front of the massive hundred-year-old oak, laden with the fall colors and heaviness of the late season, where they hold most of their ceremonies. Ben put his arms around me from behind and asked what I thought. “It’s perfect,” I breathed, tears in my eyes as the picture laid out before me in my mind. Ben and I under the oak tree surrounded by family and friends as the tree bloomed bright green in the springtime, so in love and so happy. He agreed and we put in our down payment that day.

Today, we are packing up and heading up to a hotel in Newburgh, near the venue. Jessie and Ethan will meet us up there, along with my friend Jackson from college, but Dylan and Sam are riding up with us as we have rented a car from JFK where we’ll be leaving from on Sunday for our honeymoon. We already have the car, which Ben and I went and picked up this morning. As we survey our work, determining we have everything we need including all our décor items as well as our wedding day outfits and all associated accoutrements, we make a couple of trips downstairs and get it all loaded into the back of the Tahoe we’ve rented. In the apartment, we’re leaving our honeymoon bags which we’ll come back here and switch out with our wedding weekend bags on our way through the island on Sunday before we head out.

We do one final sweep of the apartment and pick up a couple of odds and ends, back up chargers, the cash for tips for our vendors, etc. and before we actually walk out the door, Ben kisses me softly and says, “Next time we’re here, we’ll be married,” with an excited glint in his eye and a smile playing on his lips. “You ready for that?” he asks. A ball of emotion forms in my throat and I cannot speak, but I nod emphatically and wrap my arms tightly around his neck.

Once I can speak, I say, “I love you so much.”

“I love **you** so much,” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear and igniting the low burn in my belly.

“Are we **sure** we want to sleep in separate rooms BOTH nights??” I ask, pulling back to look into his eyes. I pout and widen my eyes for effect.

As he takes in my face, he groans and thunks his head on my shoulder. “Yes… we are. Building the excitement, satisfying the parents, blah, blah, blah,” he moans. They know we live together, so I don’t know why they’ve insisted on this measure NOW, but my dad did help with the cost of the dinner and the DJ, wanting to make sure Ben and I had money for a honeymoon from the account Mom left me, and Ben’s parents did help a lot with the decorations and they’re doing all the setup with Dylan, Sam, Ethan, and Jessie, so we can’t say too much about it. We’ll be married soon enough.

I sigh heavily. “There will be a lot of pent up desire by the time I get you alone Saturday night,” I say quietly, looking meaningfully into his eyes, biting my lip.

His eyes widen and he nods emphatically. “Agreed.”

He kisses me again, hard, and then grabs my hand and pulls me out of the apartment so that we don’t stay and go for round three for the day. We had an eventful morning before breakfast, which was lovely and wildly satisfying, but I totally blame on the pre-wedding jittery energy that has absolutely nothing to do with how confident we feel in our marriage and everything to do with the major event we’re putting on.

**Ben**

Arthur climbs into the driver’s seat and I climb into the passenger side, immediately plugging in my phone and getting our Wedding Weekend playlist going. It’s about 12 hours of the sappiest lovey-dovey romantic songs that talk about falling in love and getting married, as well as songs to hype us up about life together and the party we’re going to have with everyone we love. At this point, I’m only a little anxious about the whole production of it all and the large group of people we’re putting it on for. We’ll see how long my anxiety levels stay this low.

We get on the road and head to Dylan and Sam’s, holding hands while we sit in the city traffic. I’ve texted them, so they are waiting at the entrance to their building with their own suitcases and garment bags.

They are my wedding party and Ethan and Jessie are Arthur’s. He and I haven’t seen each other’s outfits, but we’ve both seen all of theirs. Jessie and Sam are wearing the same dress, but Jessie’s is royal blue and Sam’s is a shimmery silver. Ethan and Dylan are both wearing classic black suits, but without jackets and their vests match the girls’ dresses. We really wanted a classic traditional look for the whole thing, so even though the pairs look a little like they’re going to prom together, we think it’s cute and it’ll make for great pictures, especially since the one thing we do know about one another’s outfits is that we based them on our own rings.

We open the back hatch for Dylan and Sam and they load up and hop into the back. “Hello Gentlemen! How does it feel? Getting married this weekend?? It’s gonna be amazing!” Dylan grabs me by the shoulders and squeezes.

“Feelin’ great, D!” I respond excitedly.

Arthur smiles widely, taking my hand, and says, “Can’t wait!”

“It’s going to be such a great weekend,” Sam says, sliding into the middle next to Dylan as they get buckled and settle into the backseat for our hour and a half drive north.

When we pull into the hotel, we all get out to check into our rooms. We get our keys and make our way upstairs with our stuff all piled on one of those bellhop carts. Jessie and Ethan won’t be here for a couple of hours, so we all decide to get into our swimsuits and head to the pool. After a while of splashing around and playing chicken, I get done wrestling a bit with Dylan and look around to see Arthur isn’t in the pool anymore. I see his head just above the ground, popping out of the hot tub, so I make my way out of the pool and ease into the hot tub next to him.

“Hey future husband,” I say quietly.

He opens his big blue eyes and smiles wide. “Hey handsome.”

We kiss and I lock my fingers into his, then we settle in next to one another, everything from the neck down under the water, touching at the shoulder, hip, and along our thighs. I gently rub my thumb against his and he heaves a big sigh. “This is good, I’m glad we came up so early,” he says.

“Definitely. You ready for this, babe?”

He turns his head and smiles crookedly. “I am so ready to be Mr. Alejo,” he whispers. Arthur was insistent. He doesn’t want to hyphenate, and he has no strong emotional ties to his last name, but he knows how much my name means to me and my family. He wants to share that with me, and I love him all the more for it.

I lean my forehead against his, nuzzling my nose and his together. “I love you so much, Arthur,” I whisper.

He moves in, swings his legs over so they are resting on mine, wraps his arms around my neck and kisses me softly. “I love you, too, Ben. So much.”

We relax in the hot tub as I hold him in my lap for a while longer and Dylan and Sam join us for a bit before all of us get out and head upstairs because Ethan and Jessie should be here soon.

Later that night, Jessie, Ethan, and Jackson have gotten settled into the rooms with Arthur, and we head out in our rentals to a drag show in Newburgh, as our joint “bachelor” party. Not that we’ve been bachelors really ever, but it sounded fun. Dylan is especially pumped as he finds Drag Queens fascinating. We have a reserved booth and the venue knows we are getting married this weekend because D made sure this would be the single most embarrassingly public night of our lives, but that’s my best friend. What are you gonna do?

As we walk in, Dylan is positively vibrating with his excitement as he throws an arm around my shoulders and I laugh, shaking my head. We eat a great meal, drink mojitos, and enjoy the hell out of the night as some of the most amazing Drag Queens do their impressions of Divas through the ages and drape feather boas around our necks when Dylan shouts that we are getting married this weekend and they bring us up on stage. The Mariah Carey Diva takes particular interest in us, pulling us up on stage and sitting on my lap to sing “Vision of Love” to the both of us. Arthur’s face goes beat red and my cheeks warm as well, but I take his hand and we relish in the moment and the attention and cheers from the crowd as the Queen leaves lipstick prints on our foreheads. As we head back to the table, I lean in and grab Arthur’s face, pressing an assertive kiss to his lips, which he immediately sinks into, having zero inhibitions due to our slight alcohol-induced haze. The crowd cheers our open affection and we get a “Wooohooo” from the stage. I smile against Arthur’s lips, wrap my arms around him and dip him, eliciting a gasp and his arms to wrap tightly around my neck so that he doesn’t fall. When we stand upright, his cheeks are flushed, and his eyes are brighter blue than I’ve ever seen them.

I lean close to his ear and say in a husky rasp, “I want you more right now than ever, Arturo.” I press my lips gently against the skin just beneath his ear.

He sucks in a breath and ducks his face into the crook of my neck, his breath quickening. He presses a kiss to my clavicle and my entire body heats as I feel my body begin to respond to him. Given that there is so much else going on, and so many things messing with my heart rate, most especially this gorgeous man of mine, I don’t really notice right away the hum in my mind of anxious thoughts. Everything seems anxious because everything is overwhelming. The lights, the music, the crowd, the moment. Who wouldn’t be overwhelmed? But when I get overwhelmed, it doesn’t just go away…

Sam agreed to be our designated driver, so Arthur and I are cuddled up in the very back of the SUV making out as we ride back to the hotel. Our cheeks are flushed and we laugh quietly against one another’s lips as we run fingers through each other’s hair and taste the rum and mint on one another’s tongues. When we get upstairs and its time to separate as everyone else spills into their respective rooms, I tug Arthur to a stop and nudge him back against a wall, pressing against him gently, my excitement apparent between us. He smiles as I dip my head and drag my lips lightly against his neck up to his ear as he gasps and his arms wind around my back pulling me into him.

“Will you dream of me?” I whisper against his ear, taking his face in my hand and running my lips along his jaw until I am kissing him. He moans gently into our kiss.

“Of course, Ben,” he breathes as I rest my forehead against his.

“And I will dream of you, my mighty Arturo, and our life together. I may also have to give myself a little help,” I say with a chuckle. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he whispers, and kisses me lightly. He presses me away slightly so that we are staring into one another’s eyes and he smiles wide. A smile breaks across my face as well. I brush my thumb along his jaw and sigh before we break away and walk toward our rooms. We are both adjusting ourselves as we enter our rooms.

Dylan and Sam are already in pajamas snuggling up under the covers, but they have left a lamp on for me so I can get ready for bed. As I change into my plaid drawstring pants and t-shirt, and brush my teeth, the tension in my body changes. I was excited; overwhelmed, but happy. Now that the rest of the sensory overload has gone, I can feel the buzz of anxiety building in my chest. I haven’t felt this in a while, honestly. It happened quite a bit in college, but since Arthur and I moved in together, it’s mostly gone away. It came back after the accident for a few nights, but Arthur was right there, and I was able let him and his presence calm me down. He was pretty concerned for a few weeks there, but it stopped waking me up after a few days and after a couple of weeks he stopped asking me if I was anxious. He knew I was, but it was manageable. As I rinse the sweat and lipstick off my face, I am trying to bring down the buzz, but my heart continues to race. I take a few deep breaths and steel myself. I can sleep a couple of nights away from him and be okay. I’m going to be fine. I continue to work to convince myself of this as I climb into bed, turn off the light, and grab a spare pillow to hug tightly to my chest in Arthur’s place. I try to fall asleep, but I toss, and I turn, and I am gulping for air as quietly as I can.

Dylan rolls over and groans. “You okay, man?” I guess it’s not as quiet as I thought.

I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and shake my head. I am shaking and my heart is racing as my breath comes in short, shallow bursts. “I don’t think so,” I say through my hyperventilation as I grab my phone and text Arthur.

 **Me** : Anxiety attack. Can you come?

Dylan sits up and looks at me, “Dude, Ben, are you having an anxiety attack right now? That’s my thing, big guy. What are you stealing my thing for?” He comes and sits next to me, bumping my shoulder, and I’m surprised enough by his comment to laugh a little, interrupting my breathing. My heart won’t slow down, though, and I’m starting to get lightheaded, when we hear a knock at the door. Dylan pats me on the shoulder and goes to answer it, letting Arthur in. “You got him, Seussical?”

“Yeah, I got him.” Art stands in front of me, running a hand through my hair and dipping down to kiss my forehead as Dylan gets back into bed. “Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand and tugging me up off the bed. My breathing is already regulating at the sound of his voice and his hand in mine. We go into the bathroom and turn on the light, to which I wince at the brightness as he closes the door. I lean against the counter with one hand on my chest, feeling my heart continue to try and make its escape, and brace myself with my other hand as Arthur comes to me. He slides his hand under my own on my chest and takes my face in his free hand. “Tell me what you need,” he says gently.

I work to take deep breaths and allow his presence to ground me. “I think if I’m already asleep when you leave, I’ll be okay,” I say quietly. “There’s just so much going on, I guess I haven’t really been keeping tabs on my anxiety because it hasn’t been a huge issue at home, but it’s been building for a while, I think,” I admit to him, taking another deep breath and heaving out a sigh. He brushes his thumb against my cheek as I speak. “There’s just so much to do and so many people coming just for us and it’s a lot to take in. Between the build-up, the sensory overload at the club, and the alcohol, I couldn’t get a handle on it…”

He nods and brings my forehead down to his. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice, babe. We’ve both been a little crazy lately trying to get ready for our day, but I should have asked how you were doing...” His eyes are sad and guilty.

“Hey, it’s my anxiety, Art. I love that you usually notice when I’m reeling, but it’s my responsibility to make sure I’m keeping it in check. It’s not your fault, okay? There is nothing to forgive and nothing to be sorry for.” I take a deep breath and link my hands together behind his neck.

He nods against my forehead. “I know it is, but you’re my partner, Ben. When I’m not paying close enough attention to you to the point that you’re having an attack, I don’t feel like I’m being as good of a partner as I can be,” he sighs heavily and presses his nose against mine gently, nuzzling. “Why don’t we take a nice hot shower, and then I’ll stay ‘til you fall asleep?” He offers. I nod against his forehead; my heartrate having slowed considerably already.

“That sounds perfect, Arthur, thank you,” I say quietly, kissing him lightly on the lips.

He smiles gently and hooks one finger under the hem of my t-shirt, pulling it up as I lift my arms to allow him to pull it off. I take off his glasses and set them on the counter before also pulling off his t-shirt. He runs his fingertips lightly down my chest and stomach closing his eyes for a moment before turning and getting the shower going. We both strip out of our pajama bottoms and boxer briefs and climb into the steamy shower. Arthur makes sure I am the one mostly under the stream and we stand, holding onto each other, letting the hot water relax me. Still being a little drunk and being so exhausted in the wake of the anxiety attack, I am unable to help myself, while my face is buried in the crook of Arthur’s neck, from laying light kisses across his shoulder and up his neck. I whisper against his ear, “Thank you for coming. I was totally losing it.”

“Of course I’m here; you needed me,” he breathes and I feel the gentle rise of us against each other as he slides his hands down my back, pressing our hips together and taking my ass in both hands.

I suck in a sharp breath. “Art…” I gasp, biting my lip.

“Should I?” he asks, sliding a slippery hand around my hip and down the front of me.

I open my eyes meeting his, “We could both…” I say, and a small smile plays on his lips.

“Both is good,” he chuckles slightly, lifting up and softly running his tongue across my lower lip and locking us into a kiss as we press into each other’s bodies against the stone tile, holding each other gently, but confidently, and bring one another sweet release as we moan and whimper as quietly as we can into each other’s kiss.

We rinse off, still kissing as we finish our shower and then help each other dry off. I am feeling wholly more relaxed as we pull our pajamas back on and leave the bathroom. Dylan and Sam are fast asleep, so we are quiet. I lie down facing the wall and Art climbs in behind me, propping up on one elbow so my head and shoulders are braced against his chest. With his free hand, Arthur gently massages my head because he knows exactly how to get me to sleep when I’m anxious and restless. As his nails lightly scratch my scalp, he softly sings Ben Platt’s “Ease My Mind” in my ear and I am asleep before he starts the second chorus. I barely register his gentle kiss behind my ear, and I think I mumble an “I love you” when he does before climbing out of bed, but that could have been a dream.

**Arthur**

Seeing Ben so freaked out is not easy, but I love being able to bring him back down to earth. When I got his text, my heart flipped.

**Ben** : Having an attack, can you come?

I hadn’t quite gotten to bed yet, so I headed right over. As I helped him to relax and bring him back to center, I was reminded how solid he was when my mom died, and how solid he still is when it’s me having the bad day. As I lightly move my fingers through his still-damp, sandy brown hair and sing one of our favorite Ben Platt songs, I take in his slightly spicy scent and hear his breathing even out. I make sure he’s pretty out before I kiss him lightly just behind his earlobe and whisper that I love him. He mumbles that he loves me in return, and I roll as gently as I can away from him.

I sleep well but get up early. Today, we set up the venue for the reception and have our rehearsal in the afternoon before our rehearsal dinner tonight. First, though, we are going to take advantage of the continental breakfast. As I put on my glasses and throw on some basketball shorts, Jessie is just rolling out of bed and I let her know to meet us downstairs for breakfast before I head out to Dylan and Sam’s room. I knock lightly and Sam lets me in.

“He’s still sleeping,” she tells me with a smile as she steps out of my way.

“Okay,” I say. “Good Morning,” I tell her with a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

“Good Morning,” she replies and rubs my arm.

I head in and crawl into Ben’s bed, sliding in under the covers with him. I put my face close to his and wrap an arm around him. He responds right away wrapping an arm tightly around me as well. “There’s my beautiful man,” he mumbles, bending forward and kissing me.

“Hey handsome,” I say. “You wanna wake up so we can go get some breakfast?”

“Mmmm, yeah, that sounds good. I’m thinking waffles,” he smiles, and his eyes flutter open.

“Hmm, I was thinking an omelet,” I counter with a smirk.

“Yumm,” he agrees, resting his forehead against mine.

I run a hand down his chest feeling his steady heartbeat. “You feeling okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he takes my face in one hand. “I very much needed some chill time with you before I could sleep last night. Can we plan for that tonight? I want to make sure we’re both well rested for tomorrow,” he tells me with a gleam in his eye.

I press a couple of light kisses to his lips and nod. “Of course, Ben. Whatever you need.” I curl into him further, pressing my face into his chest.

He rests his head on top of mine and asks, “How about you? Where’s your head at?”

I sigh, knowing he’s asking about my mom’s absence. “I’m trying to be present in each moment as we’re in it. My dad’s not here yet, so I’m not really thinking about the fact that my mom’s not here.” I know this will get worse later. Dad’s coming tonight for the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Ben and I already worked out that we’ll be spending a few minutes alone after the ceremony before the reception because we’ll both need that moment. We’ll have a picture set up at the ceremony in the front row where my mom would have been seated. We are doing our best to celebrate as she would have wanted us to.

Ben nods against my head and kisses my hair. “Well, don’t think that just because I’m a ball of nerves that I can’t be here for you, babe. I’m still me,” he says quietly. I can hear the insecurity in his voice. He doesn’t feel dependable or strong, even though he is the most of both of those things out of anyone in my life.

I unfurl myself from around him and look up at his sad eyes as my own go soft and emotion balls in my throat. “Of course you’re still you, Ben,” I say quietly. “We’ve both been through hell in different ways, but that’s what makes us even better is that we know how to support each other. Of course I know I can still lean on you. Trust me. When I need you, I will not be shy.” I kiss him gently, holding him tightly, and we lie there for a few more minutes before we get up and moving.

Ben throws on a hoodie and some sweats and quickly brushes his teeth so we can get downstairs and have breakfast with the whole crew before we all head to the venue to set up for the rehearsal dinner and as much of the ceremony and reception as we can for now. Ben’s parents and my dad are heading up today and will meet us at the venue to help set up. Dad stayed at Uncle Milton’s when he flew into the city yesterday.

After breakfast, we head up and actually get ready for the day. Ben and I get a little cutesy because I am who I am, and I had Sam make us matching “Two grooms are better than one” t-shirts on her Cricut. When I showed him, he just shook his head and kissed me, knowing this is exactly the kind of thing he signed up for with me. As we meet in the hallway between our rooms in our matching shirts, fitted jeans, and rainbow laced shoes, (I got some chucks like his with the elastic rainbow laces) we smile widely and wrap our arms around one another.

“There’s that dork I’m marrying,” he says with a laugh.

“If I’m a dork, you’re a dork, too. We match,” I point out with quite a bit of sass and a big smile.

“I’d dress like a dork every day to see you smile like that, babe,” he admits and kisses me. “I love your smile.”

“Okay boys, we have to actually set up for this wedding of yours. Are you coming?” Jessie calls from down the hall where everyone else is waiting, watching us with knowing smiles on their faces.

“Coming,” we both call, locking our hands together and falling into step next to each other.

The rest of what’s left of the morning is spent unloading the Tahoe into the venue with all of our boxes of decorations. Ben’s parents are bringing up more in their rental because we didn’t have room for all of it in ours. Once we get everything inside, we turn on our wedding weekend playlist and start unpacking. Jessie and Sam take over from there. We told them what we wanted, they told us what to buy and we brought it. They start divvying up supplies and materials, vases, ribbons, candles, etc. and send Ben and I to get pitchers filled with water from the kitchen. Our center pieces are small blue vases with floating candles in them, a thick silver ribbon wrapped crisscrossed around the neck of the vase, with pins from our favorite Broadway shows holding the ribbon closed. It’s so perfectly us!

Just as we’re starting, a flurry of activity comes into the room as the rest of the parents all come together. There are hugs and handshakes and kisses and Isabelle is crying so Jessie and Sam are crying and I am REALLY TRYING not to cry. Once the hugs are done and we explain to the parents what’s happening, we get back to work while Jackson and Dylan help Ben’s dad with the boxes of decorations from their rental.

I hear Ben take a few deliberate deep breaths beside me and when I’ve pinned the ribbon I’m working on, I set down the vase and turn to face him, leaning a hip against the table, crossing one foot over the other to balance myself. He looks at me and I quirk an eyebrow, nodding at his trembling hands as he pins his ribbon and sets the vase down as well, bracing himself with both hands on the table to ground himself. I slide a hand against the inside of his bicep and gently rub the skin just beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt with my thumb while resting my chin on his shoulder. He takes a few more slow, deep breaths and I see that he’s come back to center. I kiss him lightly on the neck, smiling gently as I turn, and we go back to what we were doing.

He nudges my shoulder gently and I glance toward him. “See? You still got it,” he says quietly enough so only I can hear it. He is smirking as he pins another ribbon.

I smile toward him and wink. “Yes, I do.” 

Jesse and Sam do the vase filling as they are highly concerned with making sure the water level is exactly level with the bottom of the ribbon and none of us boys are all that concerned about that. Once they’ve filled, Dylan and Jackson place a floating candle on the water’s surface veeeeeeerrrry carefully so as not to splash any of the water. We finish up with the vases after a quick lunch of pizza outside because it’s warmed up quite a bit and the sun is out.

“Look babe, it’s going to be beautiful for us tomorrow,” I say.

Ben smiles and turns so he is able to lay his head in my lap and look up at me and the sky. “Of course it is, because the universe is not an asshole,” he grins widely.

“No, it certainly is not,” I agree, gently running my fingers through his hair.

Once we’ve finished with the vases, then we create an assembly line of favor bags. In each bag, there are one of each of our favorite candies as well as a disposable camera wrapped with a cool design in blue and silver just for us so guests can take physical pictures we’ll get developed after the wedding, and one of the Broadway pins we’re using on the center pieces.

Late in the afternoon, once we’ve finished all of our pieces for the reception, we get together and head outside to the ceremony area where chairs are already set up facing the huge oak. Waiting for us there are a few old friends.

“Omigosh! It’s Arthur and Ben! Arthur we’ve missed you!!” Juliet squeals as we meet in a tight hug.

“OOooh, I am so ready to get my weddin’ on!” Namrata says eagerly as she hugs Ben and then we switch.

“It is so good to see you guys!!!” I say as I feel tears pooling in my eyes. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course we came! It’s the culmination of my favorite love story! We’ve been waiting five years for this!” Juliet squeezes my arm and kisses me on the cheek.

We all continue toward the large oak tree chatting as we approach two men standing at the end of the aisle in matching man-buns and overalls, like Mario.

“Hello boys!” Ben says, offering each of them a high five.

“Ben! Arthur!” the twins call in unison in their German accents.

We reached back out to the twins to see if they would like to be a part of our wedding and they told us they were already ordained to marry people. We knew they would help make our day extra special and fun.

We get set up, Dylan and Sam will process in, then Jessie and Ethan. All of our parents will come in together with the sand for the ceremony and then we’ll walk on our own; Ben will go first, then me. We walk through the whole thing without incident, the music goes off without a hitch and the timing is great once I explain to everyone what we’re looking for. Once we’ve processed, the twins do a little back and forth for the ceremony.

“Arthur, would you please share your vows with Ben?” Wilhelm asks.

“And then I will do that, but those are a surprise,” I say with a smile.

Then Alistair says, “Now Ben, would you please share your vows with Arthur?”

“Mine are also a surprise,” Ben says, squeezing my hand.

“And then we’ll do the blessing of the rings, since you already have them,” Wilhelm adds. He takes my hand and Alistair takes Ben’s and they mock-up what will be a slightly more involved ceremony tomorrow.

“And then we pronounce you husbands, you may kiss your spouse,” they say together.

Ben takes my face in his hand and we kiss softly, to the gentle applause of our family and friends. We smile and turn, holding hands, and explain the recessional process. We practice coming in and out a couple more times, just to make sure we’ve got it down (also because I’m neurotic…).

When we head back inside, one end of the reception venue has been set up by staff with a small buffet of roast beef, mashed potatoes, glazed carrots, salad, rolls, and lemon raspberry tarts for dessert. One waiter stands by the buffet and another stands behind a small bar. “You guys go ahead and get drinks,” I say to everyone else, holding Ben a little behind the group.

He turns and furrows his brow, “What’s up, Art?”

I smile gently, wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms loop around my waist automatically. “I was thinking maybe we don’t drink tonight. I’m just worried because of last night. I won’t drink either. I don’t want you to feel pressured and you’re obviously free to do what you like, but I want you to be okay tonight. What do you think?” I ask.

Ben takes a deep breath and rests his nose against my forehead. “That is a very good idea. Thank you for suggesting it. We can let loose tomorrow when we’ll be together.” We kiss and join our friends and family, keeping an arm around one another as we each order a glass of soda.

Today has been a good day. Standing here, with Ben by my side, preparing for tomorrow when we’ll give ourselves to one another before God and our loved ones, I am shocked at how few nerves I’m feeling. I also know that while the idea of the big party and the crowd are keying up Ben’s anxiety, he is sure in us, and that is causing me to feel light as a feather as we sit down to dinner and talk excitedly about the wedding and the honeymoon with our friends and family. As dinner is winding down and the servers are clearing away all but the dessert, my dad stands and clinks a spoon against his water glass.

“I’d like to make a toast to our boys,” he says, holding up his half-drunk glass of wine. “This last year has seen so many ups and downs, but the one thing I knew for sure was that my son had Ben, and Ben had Arthur.” Ben slides an arm around me, and I rest my hand on his leg as we lean our heads together. “Ben, you are part of our family and I am confident in you two because you and Art support and lift one another up. Mara would have been so proud of you both,” he chokes up and raises his glass higher. “To you,” he says, and everyone responds in kind, raising their glasses and drinking.

I kiss Ben and we each clear a few tears from our cheeks. I stand and pull Ben up next to me. “We want to thank each of you. Whether you’re our family by blood or by choice, thank you for your help today and for your support over the years,” I start.

Ben pulls me closer, his thumb brushing lightly against my side over my t-shirt, comforting me. “Thank you Ma, Pa, Dad, for everything. We so wish that Mara could be here to celebrate with us, but we feel her in every moment as we prepare for tomorrow.”

“To Family,” I say, a little emotional, as we lift our glasses and toast again.

We have dessert and then the parents all say they’re going to head back to the hotel and get some rest. Juliet and Namrata excuse themselves to split a bottle of wine and watch a Rom-Com. The twins catch a ride with them and wish the table a good night. Once it’s just us and our best friends again, Jackson speaks up.

“Guys, I just want to say, you two give me hope. There’s something so inspiring knowing all you’ve been through and how you never once let each other go. You two are going to be forever, I can just tell.” He smiles and nods, tipping his Bacardi and Coke at us.

“Thanks, J,” I say, my fist on my chest.

We finish our beverages and head out back to the hotel. Jessie and Sam decide they’re going to go for a quick swim when we get back, while Dylan, Ethan, and Jackson head off to go have a beer in the hotel bar.

“Don’t stay up too late, guys. A lot of pictures are going to be taken tomorrow,” Ben calls after them as they walk away.

“Don’t worry Bennasaur, I got us covered,” Dylan assures him with a winning smile, and we trust him, knowing D would never let us down if he could help it.

**Ben**

Arthur and I head upstairs for the “us time” I asked for. We head to our rooms to change out of jeans into pajamas. I pull off my jeans and slip on some baggy sweats. When Arthur knocks, I open the door and he’s in a hoodie and basketball shorts wearing his glasses and a crooked smile. I smile and grab his hand to tug him inside.

We sit next to one another at the head of my bed, leaning together, holding hands, my head resting on top of his.

“Today was really good,” I say. “I’m really excited for tomorrow.” And I am. I love that the décor matches our rings and our outfits and it’s going to be a literally picture-perfect day.

“Yeah, it was. I am, too, babe.” He sounds sad, though, and I know he’s missing his mom.

“You know she’s here with us, right?” I ask, squeezing his hand, kissing the top of his head.

“Yeah,” he sniffs. “But I want her to hug us and I want her to hold my face and tell me how excited she is,” he says as I feel tears begin to fall. I know he misses her. He rolls his face against my shoulder and I adjust so that my arms are around him and his face is pressed into the crook of my neck.

“I know, Art,” I say, my voice cracking, as I lightly run my fingers through his hair.

He cries for a bit and I simply hold him tightly and begin to well up a little as well. I can’t feel his sadness without feeling my own. She won’t get to be my mother-in-law, and she’d have made an amazing one. She’s here; we can feel her, but our kids won’t know her love. There is just so much she’ll miss. When he pulls back, I clear the tears from his cheeks.

He lifts a hand to my face and does the same, “Are you okay? This was supposed to be you-time,” he says. “How’s your knee?” he asks, knowing it still hurts if I do a lot of extra standing or lifting. Most days after work I have to ice it, even still.

I smile gently, “Of course I’m okay, Art. You’re right here.” I pull his hand down and press it over my strong and steadily beating heart that is not changing or sporadic at all. “My own personal anti-anxiety medication.” I smile slightly and brush my lips against his forehead. “And my knee is a little sore, but with all the boxes and standing most of the day for setup, that’s probably to be expected.”

“Can I help?” he asks, sitting up a little.

“If you want,” I say, casting the comforter aside.

“Oh, hang on, I’ll be right back.” He hops off the bed and pops into the bathroom, coming out just a second later with a small hotel-size bottle.

I smile and pull up the leg of my sweatpants, widening the spread of my legs so he can sit between them. He lifts my left leg up so it is bent over his own knee and puts a little lotion in his hand. He hands me the bottle and warms the lotion in his hands a bit before beginning to spread it over and around my knee. He makes sure the skin is well coated before he begins to massage the muscles of my leg. He is gentle but firm in his pressure and even though it hurts to agitate the muscles, I know it will feel better when he’s done. As he presses against my sore muscles, he asks “You wanna go over the plan for tomorrow, so you know what to expect?” knowing it helps me keep my chill when I memorize the schedule, so I’m not focused on deciding what to do next, I already know.

“Sure, 8AM wake up, Dylan and Ethan are on breakfast duty, so we don’t see each other. Let me tell you, oof, that’s a tough one.” He has hit a particularly tender spot and I wince, so he lightens up a bit. “I’m so used to waking up with you, even today,” I chuckle.

“Definitely gonna be rough,” he agrees as his strong hands work my tense muscles into submission. “Then the girls and your mom have their hair and nails in the salon at 10 and we are hanging out with the boys and our dads for the rest of the morning,” he continues as he begins kneading my leg with the heels of his palms rather than his thumbs. He’s gotten very good at this over the last several months. This was part of our nightly post-PT routine after the accident. It usually led to, you know, other stuff.

“Then we all head to the Powelton, Dylan and Ethan coordinating our departures, and we’ll land in the opposite suites to get ready. We take pictures at 2 with our own parties and families, and the other’s party and family,” I go on, doing my best to leave my leg relaxed as he continues to massage it.

“Then it’s the first look,” he says. It’s almost a whisper. “God, Ben,” he says, shaking his head as he goes back to using his thumbs along my LCL and MCL on either side of my knee. I suck in a breath through my teethand ball my hands into fists against the mattress. This is always the worst part. He doesn’t let up because he knows I need it. The first few times, it freaked him out, but when I explained that it was where the most tension was and that it was where I needed the most relief, he got over his hesitance. He keeps talking, trying to take my mind off of it. “You always look good, but I am legitimately going to have to stop myself from tearing your clothes off tomorrow,” he assumes with a smile.

“Same,” I say, breathing deeply through the pain. We don’t know exactly what the other person is wearing, but we know we each believe we have the perfect outfit, and we know what they cost to tailor them to us perfectly. (Not cheap, let me tell ya.)

Once I can speak again, I say, “Then we process in and get married, have our few moments of immediate post-wedding bliss, take pictures all together with everyone, and go have a reception.”

“It’s going to be amazing,” he says, staring up at me. The lotion has mostly been used up, so he rubs the last of it into my skin and his hands and, after pulling down the leg of my sweats, moves back up to lay with me, covering us up together.

“I know it is. Thank you,” I say, bending and flexing my leg. “That’s a lot better.”

“Happy to help,” he smiles, bringing his face toward mine for a kiss. 

“I cannot wait to call you my husband,” I say with a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Ditto. Are your vows ready?” he asks.

I smile and nod. I’ve been tweaking and changing and rewriting for over a month, but I think I’ve finally settled on what I want to say. “You?”

“Let me just warn you, many of the words are not mine, but my appropriation of them is adorable,” he says. I grin and shake my head slightly, knowing that means song lyrics for days. I’m so excited to see what he’s put together.

I kiss him and rest my forehead against his. “Can’t wait, nerd,” I say with a quiet chuckle.

We lie together, just holding each other for a while. Arthur draws gentle designs on my chest and stomach, while I draw my own over his shoulder blades and play with the hair at the nape of his neck. This is very much us on a chill night at home. We lay on the couch, maybe reading a book or scrolling through our phones, maybe watching a movie or show together, but always gently connected. Sometimes we get frisky, okay, a lot of times; we’re young. Sometimes, it’s just this quiet presence. We are with each other, home for each other, comfort and calm in the storm that is life. I know in my bones that we’ll be doing this together when we’re 80, no matter what happens in our life together.

I let out a huge yawn just before midnight and my eyes start to droop, so Arthur asks, “You ready to get to sleep?”

My eyelids are heavy, and I open them enough to see him and give him a sleepy smile and nod. I scoot down so my head is on the pillows and I settle my back and shoulders against his chest like I did last night. His fingers move lightly against my scalp and he softly sings “Dreaming of You” by Selena. “Mmmm, I love this song,” I murmer. “Ma used to sing it to Pa.”

“Gotta love a tradition,” Arthur chuckles. I feel the vibration against my shoulder blades as he continues singing in his gentle and beautiful tenor. I drift off as he finishes what he knows of Selena and switches to “For Forever” from _Dear Evan Hansen_. I don’t know when he left, but I know I was very asleep, and I slept very well. I vaguely remember the whisper of a kiss on my temple. I didn’t even hear Dylan come in; I was so well knocked out.

When I wake up to a gentle shake in the morning, I blink my eyes open and startle at Dylan’s face about an inch away from mine. “Good Morning Groom!” he says excitedly.

“Good morning Best Man,” I grumble, rolling onto my back and rubbing sleep out of my eyes.

“It’s a beautiful day to get married! What would you like me to grab from the breakfast bar Ben-10? Is it a waffles and bacon and eggs kind of morning? Or a muffin and some coffee?”

I blink a few more times and scoot to a sitting position. “I’m thinking bagel with cream cheese, OJ, and some sausage links for protein,” I counter.

“Solid choices, can’t say I agree with not caffeinating, but I know your anxiety’s been acting up, so I support this decision.”

“Exactly.”

“Sam, don’t let him leave and don’t let him Facetime!” D says, winking at me as he heads out the door.

“You got it, Boss!” she calls after him. “How are you feeling, Ben?” she asks once he’s gone.

“Good, anxious, but like the good kind, the butterflies, ready for the big event kind,” I smile as I grab for my phone.

“Ah ah,” Sam says. “You may text your groom, NO Facetime and NO selfies!”

“Yes, ma’am,” I salute her and tap out a text to Arthur.

**Me:** Good Morning Handsome. I can’t wait to marry you. *kissy face emoji*

 **Arthur:** *Heart eye emoji* *Kissy Heart Emoji* *Champagne glasses emoji*I could not be more impressed with our self-control. How are you this morning, love?

 **Me:** Just the right amount of fluttery sort of anxious. I’m good, Art. It’s our day and I couldn’t be happier. I love you.

 **Arthur:** I love you. Have a good breakfast. *kissing lips emoji* *bacon/eggs emoji*

I hop in the shower and when I come out, Dylan is back with breakfast. I finish eating and then, before it is time to send Sam off with Jessie and Ma for their hair appointments, Dylan says, “Hey Bennasaur, we have something for you.” He seems nervous and I furrow my brow.

Sam says, “We know the whole new/old/borrowed/blue thing doesn’t really apply to grooms, but since Art’s going to be in a lot of blue, we wanted you to have something blue as well.”

“Oh, you guys didn’t have to do anything like that,” I say, blushing.

They smile and pull out a small box. When I open it, I find a pair of cufflinks in the exact shade of bright electric blue of Arthur’s eyes. “We looked for something that matched…”

“His eyes,” I say, a bit awestruck by how exactly they’d succeeded. “They’re perfect, thank you.” I am hoarse sounding and I snap the box closed and stand. Dylan meets me in a forceful and strong brotherly embrace.

“I’m so happy for you, man,” he says against my shoulder.

“Love you, D.”

“Love you, Ben 10.”

We clap each other on the back a couple of times and then Dylan pushes me away, holding me by the shoulders and assumed a very wise and somber tone as he says, “Now, Ben. Tonight, you and Arthur are going to be alone and you will engage in all kinds of activities…”

I laugh and shove him. “Shut up, D.”

He laughs and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “I just thought you might want some pointers about how dicks work.”

“As we are both aware, you don’t know how dicks work, dude. So, I’ll feel free to hook or unhook mine as I see fit,” I counter with a wide grin.

Dylan laughs and Sam gathers her stuff to head out, kissing Dylan lightly on the lips and me on the cheek.

**Arthur**

As we mill around the room and I gradually get everything I need together, I become antsier and antsier. Jackson, Ethan, and I played a round of Rummi500 while the girls were gone, and when we are finished I text Ben a gif of Anna in Frozen tik toking with her crossed eyes and then fling myself on the bed as Jessie returns with her hair in a sleek updo.

“Oh honey,” she says, hand on her hip. “Are you getting impatient?”

“Yeeeeessss,” I whine. “I miss him…” My lower lip juts out in a wildly immature pout. My phone buzzes and Ben has responded with the old lady from Titanic saying, “It’s been 84 years…” and I laugh aloud and show Jessie.

She rolls her eyes at us and holds out a hand to me which I use to pull myself up. “You two are so dramatic. It’s been less than 12 hours. It is almost time for us to head over, though, so gather everything up and we’ll load up before we head out.” Jessie is ever the organized and level-headed, take-charge friend. She pops over to my dad’s room and makes sure he has his suit ready to take over to the venue as well. I already had everything ready. Outfit, shoes, cufflinks Jessie and Ethan had presented me made with wood that matched Ben’s ring, and a comb to continue to fruitlessly try and tame my messy hair.

Dylan and Ethan are on the phone coordinating our departure in ridiculously Secret Service-esque style. They’ve even taken to using their headphones with mics and wearing super-dark Oakley sunglasses they coordinated with one another as well as black “Groom Squad” tees Sam made for them.

As I grab my garment bag and shoe box, inside of which is tucked a little note for my groom, I snort a little hearing Ethan on the phone with Dylan say, “Renegade is packed and ready. Who’s going first?”

“Isn’t that…?” I asked on a laugh.

“Obama’s Secret Service codename? Indeed it is. Ben’s is Renaissance, just like Michelle’s,” Ethan grins at me while popping his head out the door. “Also, a nod to his writing, which is a little genius if I do say so myself.”

I shake my head but say, “I love it.”

Ethan makes a pained face and pulls his earbud out of his ear before begrudgingly saying, “Dylan would very much like you to know that it was mostly his idea, which is true.” He rolls his eyes as he puts his headphone back in his ear and I laugh.

Jessie puts an arm around my waist and kisses my cheek. “What’s that for?” I ask.

“I’m just proud of you is all. I’m proud of how you found the life that makes you happy and went for it without any hesitation. I’m proud you’re my best friend,” she tells me, eyes shining.

Tears prick at my eyes and I lean my forehead against hers gently. “It’s too early for us to start crying, Jess, but I love you and thank you,” I say, a little choked around the ball of emotion in my throat.

“Love you, too, Art.”   
“Hey, I want in on the love fest!” Ethan wraps us both in a bear hug together as we all laugh.

As we pull away, Jackson comes up on the other side of me and claps a hand on my shoulder. “Big day, you ready?”

I smile wide and nod. “So ready.”

“Alright lady and gentle sirs, we are cleared for take-off. Ben is in his car and heading to the venue, let’s go! It’s a great day to get married!” Ethan announces, grabbing his own garment bag and sweeping the door open for us all to trapse through.

**Ben**

“Renaissance has arrived at the venue and will be inside momentarily. What’s the status on Renegade?” Dylan asks into his headphone mic. He nods a couple of times and says, “Roger that.” He turns to me and smiles, “Your man’s about ten minutes out Big Ben, let’s get you inside.”

I salute with a smile and we pile out of the rental with our garment bags and shoeboxes. Tucked away in my shoebox is a letter I’ll have Sam take to Arthur when he gets here. As I set down the shoebox and hang up my garment bag, I take in a deep, intentional breath and sigh. Dylan drapes an arm around my shoulder and stands quietly by me. I am immediately a little calmer than I had been. Sam comes to my other side and loops an arm through mine, twining her fingers together and leaning her head on my shoulder. I look down at the ring sparkling on her hand and say, “Not too long and we’ll be coming back around for you two.”

She smiles up at me and Dylan squeezes my shoulder. “Oh! I forgot we were still connected,” Dylan says, surprised, his arm dropping from my shoulder. “Got it, Renegade is in place. Thanks E, we’ll let the girls take it from here.” He hangs up his phone and disconnects his headphones. “You ready to get ready to get hitched, Ben-10?”

“Definitely, D. Let’s get to it. Sam, can you run this to him before you get dressed?” I hand her a small white envelope and a crooked smile quirks at my mouth.

She smiles brightly and kisses me on the cheek. “Of course!”

Dylan and I start to get ready, but she is back in just a couple of moments and has a cream-colored envelope with my name on it. “Jessie and I caught each other halfway and she had this for you, so we swapped,” she giggles.

I finish buttoning my shirt, then take the letter gently in my trembling fingers and bite my lip. “Thanks Sam.” I say softly and I head into the small changing room.

I sit on the cushioned bench and take a deep breath before breaking the seal of the fancy “S” sticker and pulling out a cream-colored cardstock card with gold foil calligraphy reading “My Groom”. I run the pad of my thumb across the slightly raised text and smile before nudging open the card to see Arthur’s small scripty handwriting.

> _My dearest Ben,_
> 
> _I cannot tell you how much joy you bring to my life every day, my strong and sweet man. Your love for me is the proudest treasure I have ever possessed and I desperately hope my love for you brings you even a fraction of the pride yours brings me. I’m so grateful for you, babe. I am grateful for your strength when I can’t find it in me to be strong and I am grateful that you trust me to be strong when you’re feeling weak. I love you, my dear, and I am so excited to marry you, to continue growing together and building this life and our love together. Take a deep breath, love. You’ll be in my arms soon and we’ll be bound forever before everyone we love._
> 
> _All my love,_
> 
> _Your Mighty Arturo_

I swipe at the couple of tears that escaped my eyes as I smile at the note and take my lover’s advice. I inhale deeply, hold for a moment, then release slowly. My sweet and mighty Arturo, always knowing what to say to bring me peace when I’m anxious. I close my eyes for a moment and imagine what he must be doing right now. Likely reading my own note just like I’m reading his. I shoot him a lovey dovey emoji.

**Arthur**

When Jessie comes back, much sooner than expected, holding a fresh white envelope with my name on it, my brow furrows. Jessie smiles and says, “Sam and I basically crashed into each other, we were both on our way with notes, so we traded and turned around.”

I smile and take the envelope. “I’m just gonna…” I trail off as I step into the changing room. Jessie smiles knowingly.

I sit on the softly upholstered bench and greedily pop open the envelope sealed with an “A” sticker. I pull out a crisp folded card with “Hello Handsome” in black calligraphy across the front. I smile as I unfold the card and see Ben’s gently slanting cursive.

> _My mighty Arturo,_
> 
> _Today is our wedding day and I could not be more excited. Today marks the day that truly proves to me that the Universe is indeed NOT an asshole. Today, I am blessed with the answer to every prayer I’ve ever sent to God as it relates to my own happiness. You, my love, are my greatest muse and inspiration as well as my biggest source of strength. You know just how to rile me up and exactly what I need to calm down. You know me better than I know myself and help make me a better man and human being. I can’t wait to continue to grow on this journey with you, baby. Happy Wedding Day!_
> 
> _Yours Forever,_
> 
> _Ben_   
>    
> 

I brush away the tears streaming down my cheeks and pull out my phone to send Ben a heart eyes emoji and see he’s already sent me the lovey emoji surrounded in hearts. I send him my heart eyes and a crying emoji and then emerge from the dressing room. Jessie smiles and says, “Let’s get you dressed, Groom.”

She is already dressed in her royal blue, one-shoulder, floor-length chiffon dress and looks gorgeous. Her dirty blonde hair is swept up into a sleek updo and she has applied light, natural looking makeup. “Jess, you look beautiful,” I tell her.

She smiles wide and says, “Why thank you, sir. Now, it’s your turn.”

I am wearing shiny black shoes, black tuxedo pants with the shiny trim detail, a black dress shirt, my wooden inset cufflinks, a royal blue bowtie, and the piece de resistance: a black suit jacket embroidered all over with royal blue paisley detail which perfectly matches the aesthetic of my ring and brings out my eyes. Jessie approaches me from behind and sets a dark crown with blue jewels inlaid around the intricately designed metal on my head.

We have a team of photographers so each of us has one with us at all times. My photographer is a young woman named Kate who is doing her best to be unimposing while still getting great shots of Jessie helping me with my tie and Ethan snapping up my cufflinks. Her partner’s name is Janine, and she’ll be covering Ben.

When I look in the full-length mirror, the brightness of my eyes and the starkness of my dark hair against my fair skin startles me a bit. There is a slight flush to my cheeks and my hair, miraculously, isn’t going crazy in every different direction. The Universe really isn’t an asshole. Ethan comes up and stands behind me in his classic black tux pants with a royal blue tie and vest that matches my jacket and Jessie’s dress over a black shirt. Kate snaps a quick picture in the mirror. “Almost time for group pictures, you need anything, man?”

I take a deep breath and say, “Yeah, can you grab my dad?” I turn away from the mirror and face him.

“Absolutely. I’ll send Isabelle and Diego into Ben, too, so we can get pictures started.” He claps his hands down on my shoulders and smiles before heading next door.

I take a deep breath, preparing for the emotion I know is heading my way. Everyone’s been pretty careful not to mention Mom this morning, but it can’t be avoided much longer. I lean against the arm of the couch in the room and a couple of minutes go by before my dad walks into the room.

“Hey bud,” he says with a smile as he approaches me.

“Hey dad, Jess, E, can you guys give us a minute?”

“Of course, we’ll go coordinate with Sam and Dylan.” Jess grabs Ethan’s arm and they leave the room.

“I’ll see you outside, Arthur,” Kate says with a smile, following them out.

“So, how are you feeling? You ready for this?” Dad asks putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Good, ready, wish Mom were here,” I say softly.

His eyes soften and shine as he rests a hand on my face. “I know, Art. God, I know she’d have loved this. You and Ben have planned a beautiful day and the two of you are so in love. I’m so glad you have him, kiddo…” he encourages me. He takes a deep breath.

My eyes begin to brim as my dad stares at me with so much pride. I stand more fully and wrap my arms around him. “I miss her so much. I just wish she could see this,” I choke as a few tears fall.

Dad returns my embrace tightly and says, “She’s here, Art. She is in every moment and memory. She’d be so proud of both you boys.” He pulls away and holds me at arm’s length. “Just keep living your life proudly and loving your family and you’ll always make her proud.” He kisses me on the forehead and hugs me again before Jessie pops her head in and says she needs us. We both wipe our eyes as we head out to follow her.

**Ben**

I’ve started getting ready, but Sam says to just get on my shoes, shirt, and pants because there are amazing pictures to be taken. I trust her, so I wait a bit. Once our photographer, Janine, joins us, Sam helps me with my silver bowtie and Dylan snaps the cufflinks they gave me into place. I slip on, over my black shirt, a black jacket embroidered with silver swirls and floral sprays. As I button it, pulling the whole look together, I smile, knowing I am so close to seeing Arthur again. I can feel my heartrate picking up. His note earlier helped, and the emojis we exchanged, but seeing him in person is what I need to calm the slow tremble starting in my hands.

Sam comes up behind me and rests a silver crown atop my head. My crown has slight peaks and smooth designs hammered into the metal. It is pretty simple, which I appreciate. The crowns were my idea as an homage to The Wicked Wizard War which helped us to bond during that first summer together. I don’t know what Arthur’s looks like, but I can’t wait to find out. Making Arthur feel like a king is my favorite part of being his partner.

“We’re going to give you a moment with your parents while we coordinate with the photographers, okay?” Sam says.

I kiss her on the cheek and say, “Thanks.”

“My pleasure, Groom,” she smiles.

“Hey D,” I say as he strides across the room.

“Yeah Big Ben?” he turns and looks.

“Lookin’ hot in that silver vest, sir. I like it,” I tell him and a smile.

Dylan opens the door for Sam and winks in my direction as Sam exits and my mom and dad walk in. My mom immediately starts crying and fawning over me, and I smile and admonish her. “Ma, you’re going to ruin your make up,” I tell her, kissing her cheek.

“Oh Mijo, we’re just so proud of you. You know we love Arthur and we’re so happy you’ve got him. We know you’re going to be so happy together,” she blubbers as she flattens my lapels and fixes my bowtie unnecessarily.

My dad comes to me and pulls me into a hug. “Take care of him and let him take care of you, Benito. Never give up on each other.”

My eyes fill and overflow as I grasp him, returning his embrace. “We will, Pa.”

“We love you, Mijo. Congratulations. Enjoy this day,” Ma says, wrapping her arms around Pa and me.

I take a few deep breaths and pull back from them, seeing Sam open the door slightly. “Okay,” I say, swiping beneath my eyes. “We gotta go.”

We get outside and Dylan and Ethan keep us in our designated areas while we take pictures with our parents, our parties, both parties, both sets of parents, etc. This takes about half an hour with our individual photographers and then it’s time for the first look. My heartrate has been steadily on the rise since seeing my parents and I’m just about to lose it, so it’s very much time to see Arthur.

Sam leads me, her hands over my eyes, to a place and has me stop and turn around. I blink at the sunlight and she smiles. “Just a sec. He’s almost in place,” she says.

I bounce on the balls of my feet excitedly. “Do I look okay? Is everything straight?”

“Baby, you’re in the wrong wedding if you want everything to be straight, but your tie is straight, your jacket is amazing, and your hair looks great,” she grins.

I laugh, calming a bit. “Thanks, Sam.”

**Arthur**

After we’ve finished the pre-wedding pictures, Jessie gets me into place with my eyes covered and turns me around. I open my eyes and she checks with Kate and Janine that they are ready, off to the side, to take pictures. Once they are both in place Jessie, and I’m guessing Sam as well, get out of the way. Together, Ethan and Dylan count off.

“We go ON three gentlemen. Ready?” Dylan calls.

“More than you know,” I hear Ben say.

“Start the countdown, boys,” I say.

Together they say, “One, Two, THREE!”

I spin on my heel and see a more beautiful sight than I’ve ever seen in my life. Ben is staring at me, his eyes soft with emotion and his lips quirking up with a small smile. The silver crown on his head sits perfectly nestled in his sandy brown hair and the light flush in his cheeks makes his splash of freckles stand out. My eyes travel down as a hand comes to my mouth when I see we have purchased essentially the same jacket in different colors. God… he looks gorgeous. He makes a move to step toward me and I meet him half-way in about 4 large strides.

**Ben**

I turn around and immediately my pulse stutters. A slight smile spreads across my face and my eyes brim with tears as I take in his beauty. A dark crown sits atop his dark head of unruly hair with blue jewels that match the blue in his jacket and ring and his eyes. I huff a bit of a laugh seeing that our well-tailored jackets are almost identical and look back up to his bright blue eyes and hand covering his mouth. I step forward and he almost starts running to meet me in the middle of the space across the grass we are separated by.

When we meet, his hands land on my chest and he grabs my lapels. My arms encircle his waist and I place my forehead against his. “Hey baby,” I whisper.

“Hey,” he laughs wetly. “I was right. I want to tear you out of these clothes. You look amazing.” He tilts his head and our lips meet in a soft and sweet entreaty to time to slow to a stop so that we can reside in this moment together forever.

We pull away for a breath and I run my hands up his back. “So we’re twins,” I say with a chuckle.

“I did notice that our jackets look suspiciously similar. I kind of love it,” he grins and flattens my lapels from where his hands were grasping them.

“Me too, great minds and all that. You look incredible,” I say, pulling back. “I particularly love this.” I settle his crown back in place where it has come dislodged during our kissing. “It’s beautiful.”

“I like yours, too, Ben-Jamin,” he says with a goofy glint in his eye.

“My Mighty Arturo, King among wizards and men alike. May your reign be long and your kingdom full of peace and joy.”

“’Tis how it will be should ever we commence the wedding that is nigh on approaching. Shall we sally forth and desist delaying any further our guests’ merriment and celebration at our behest?” he giggles unable to keep up the façade of medieval colloquialism.

I laugh with him and kiss him. “We shall sally forth indeed.” I put an arm around him and turn. “Boys, go make sure everyone is ready. It’s time for a wedding!” I call to Ethan and Dylan.

We all head over to the patio area behind where the guests are seated and get more hugs and kisses from our parents. Ethan and Dylan seat our grandmothers, before heading back to us. “Okay, guys. You ready?” Ethan asks.

“Oh, they’re ready. Look at all that love,” Dylan says, draping an arm over Ethan’s shoulder, grinning like an idiot.

We both smile and blush as everyone moves to get into position, Jessie and Sam disentangling their walking partners. The twins are decked out in matching light gray suits, their typically man-bunned hair flowing free in beautiful brown waves to their shoulders. They make their way up to the front and turn around, standing in front of the hundred-year-old oak and facing the audience of our beloved family and friends.

**The Wedding**

As the beautiful, lilting notes of Yiruma’s “River Flows in You” drift from speakers hidden by flowers and greenery, Sam and Dylan begin to make their way down the aisle. All heads turn in the audience and once they’re about halfway down the aisle, Jessie and Ethan begin their journey as well. Dylan and Sam reach the front and stand, holding hands, a little ways apart from the twins. Jessie and Ethan arrive in their mirrored place on the other side just a few moments later as the music slows and comes to a stop. Perfect timing.

Isabelle, Diego, and Michael walk the aisle carrying sand in 4 glass jars. Isabelle’s is baby blue, Diego’s black, Michael has two glasses, one silver, one royal blue. They set the sand glasses on either side of the sand ceremony jar with a large calligraphic A printed on the side.

Arthur takes Ben’s hand and kisses it, eliciting a wide smile before Ben turns, takes a deep breath, brushes his hands down the front of his jacket, and takes the aisle as an instrumental version of Ben Platt’s “Run Away” begins to play. The audience stands as the swirling piano music surges through the first chorus. Ben reaches Dylan, they hug, and Ben turns around. His eyes find Arthur’s as the second verse begins in the music and Art starts walking. Ben bites his bottom lip as his eyes shine and Arthur beams as he mouths the words he knows so well by heart to his love. As he reaches the end of the aisle, hugs Jessie, and then turns to face his beloved, whispering the last few words of the song as they take each other’s hands.

“Who brings these gentlemen to be bound to one another today?” Wilhelm begins.

“We do,” our parents resound proudly from either side of the front row. Michael sitting next to a tiny table holding a framed 8x10 of Mara. Ben insisted on the use of the photo he’d used in her obituary, stating that is was the happiest and most alive she looked before she got sick, so it’s the most her she was before she was gone.

“Glorious,” Alistair continues. “Please join us in a moment of silence for those we love who left us too soon but are with us in spirit today, most especially Arthur’s mother Mara...” he requests.

Ben and Arthur move closer to one another, foreheads pressed together, both gazing toward Mara’s picture until Wilhelm breaks them of their reverie. “Thank you. You may be seated,” he says.

Alistair then begins the ceremony as Arthur and Ben return to their positions standing just apart from one another holding one another’s hands across the small expanse between them. “We are gathered here today as loved ones to celebrate the joining of two hearts into one. Arthur and Ben thank you all for blessing them with your presence and support today as they take this next step on their journey together.”

“Some of you may not know this, but the very moment Ben and Arthur met, it was because of us. We looked like Mario and Luigi and they both noticed us at the same time, then they noticed one another. We like to credit ourselves with this beautiful New York City love story’s beginning,” Wilhelm said, the audience answering with a smattering of laughter. Ben and Arthur both smile and roll their eyes a little, knowing this was coming.

“But, however it began, it was clear that The Universe intended for it to continue. Many first dates and mishaps, two breakups, and a lot of trying times have led them here. Together, they are stronger and more solid than they would be apart. Together, The Universe is on their side,” Alistair confirmed with a knowing smile to the both of them. Arthur and Ben stare steadily at one another. As Arthur takes a deep, shaky breath, Ben curls one hand to lace his fingers through Arthur’s and grasps him tightly. Fighting back the urge to take his love in his arms, Ben chews on the corner of his lower lip.

“Another thing you may not know about us, is that we were also a part of their second breakup. When Ben contacted us on Craigslist, we knew there was something special about these guys immediately and we’re proud to have been able to keep in touch over the last several years,” Wilhelm kept on. “So, when we say we’re proud of these boys, we’ve got a lot of time into this particular relationship to back it up.” He clapped a hand on one of each of their shoulders.

Alistair broke in, “We are also proud to turn it over to them so that they can share their statements of love and devotion. Ben, you’re up first.”

The loving couple took over then. Ben squeezed Arthur’s hand and drew it to his mouth to lay a quick kiss on it before letting one hand go and reaching into the pocket of his jacket.

“My Mighty Arturo,” he began, and Arthur huffed a wet laugh, smiling as tears began slow treks down each cheek, spilling over from his already heightened emotional state. “In the last year, I have discovered how strong and mighty you truly are. Your strength and fortitude in the face of unfathomable obstacles is literally why I’m standing here today.

“You are the King of overcoming adversity and encouragement is your superpower. There is a magic…,” Ben pauses, emotion evident in his voice, tears brimming in his eyes. When he begins again, his voice is quieter, thicker. “There is a magic in you that makes me a better man, that gives me so much strength. I love you, my Mighty King, My Arthur.”

As he places the folded paper back in his pocket and swipes a thumb under each eye, Arthur takes a shaky breath. “Wow, babe. You’re a tough act to follow. You ready for this?” he smiles.

“So ready,” Ben grins eagerly, knowing Arthur’s nerd has arrived in full force.

Arthur nods and pulls out his own piece of paper. “My beautiful Ben, From the start, the Universe has known that we should be Us and Only Us For Forever.” Ben chuckles as Arthur continues, “I didn’t expect you to Wait for It, but here we are, and As Long as You’re Mine, I’ll always be your Honest Man, so that we can Grow as We Go. If you’ll just Ease My Mind, then So Will I, and you and I won’t Disappear if you lose yourself. You Will Be Found and I will never Run Away from you or us. Let’s Raise a Glass so that we can tell The Story of Tonight for the rest of our lives. I love you.” He finishes and the crowd, most whom would have some idea how many Broadway and Ben Platt references were just made, applauds as Arthur smiles widely and brushes a couple of Ben’s tears away with his thumb.

“That was epic,” Ben whispers quietly, so only Arthur and the twins can hear.

“I know,” Arthur grasps Ben’s hand again proudly.

Wilhelm takes over, “Ben and Arthur will now exchange vows they’ve chosen together. Arthur, you’re first this time.”

Arthur nods and takes a deep breath just as the sun moves a bit and the breeze blows just right and both boys are bathed in a ray of light. Arthur’s eyes close as the breeze swirls around them both. “I told you she’s here,” Ben whispers and kisses his hand. Arthur nods again and opens his electric blue eyes.

Once he’s regained his modicum of chill, he begins, “Warsan Shire said it best: ‘When I love, I love: wholly, thoroughly, completely, drowning in everything. Every glance can be a conversation, eyes just playing and saying what needs to be said. Silence is loud, and the air becomes heavy. I want you. I want all of you.’ I promise to nurture us and maintain that secret language we have. I promise to hold you in the shelter of my arms when the world closes in. I promise that you’re safe, cared for, and loved in our home and our life together.”

Ben blinks some tears away, holding more firmly to Arthur’s hands, and responds. “’I promise to listen to your advice, even if I don’t always take it. I promise to stop a debate when it gets too intense, even if I’m winning. I promise to listen for as long as it takes for you to feel heard. I promise to take care of your kind heart and to always love you with all of mine.’ 'You’ll be my king and I’ll be your castle,’ safeguarding your tenderness and stoking the fires of your joy for as long as we both shall live.” Arthur smiles, even as a new wave of tears begin pouring forth from his eyes.

Wilhelm and Alistair prompt them to repeat after them in turn. “I promise to be your faithful husband. I vow to love you when the sun shines, when the rain falls, in sickness, and in health, through good times and bad. When you look at this ring, think of me and remember that I love you always.

“Today,” as they repeated, they said one another’s name, “I join my life to yours, not merely as your husband, but as your best friend, your lover, and your confidant. Let me be your shoulder to lean on, the rock on which you rest, the companion of your life. With you, I will walk my path from this day forward.”

Ben takes Arthur’s left hand in both of his, holding it up between them, Arthur’s ring on display. “This ring is a promise that you will never have to face the world alone.”

Arthur twists his wrist, grabbing Ben’s left hand and holding it in both of his as Ben had. “This ring is a promise that you will never have to face the world alone.”

Wilhelm says gently, “By the power vested in us by the state of New York…”

Alistair cuts in, “We now pronounce you married. You may kiss your groom!”

Ben’s lower lip is back in between his teeth as he steps forward and holds Arthur with one arm around his waist, his hand resting low against his back. Arthur winds his arms around Ben’s neck and their noses nuzzle lightly against one another as they stare into one another’s eyes.

“I love you” they both whisper at the same time and chuckle, then their lips seal against each other and their bodies are pressed together and everything falls away. The twins, their best friends, their families. It is just them beneath a hundred-year-old oak and they are married. Arthur makes a small whimpering sound into Ben’s mouth and the sound of the crowd applauding them returns to them both. They pull away reluctantly and lean their foreheads together, smiling sheepishly.

“Before we move, are you good?” Arthur asks quietly, knowingly.

Ben smiles and winks, “Yeah, you?”

“Yeah,” Arthur says. He pecks Ben on the lips lightly and then they step back and take each other’s hand.

“We proudly present Misters Ben and Arthur Alejo!” Wilhelm and Alistair call out as the crowd cheers.

Ben and Arthur process back down the aisle to the instrumental version of “The Story of Tonight” and head back to the building. They have pictures in about twenty minutes, but this time, right now after the wedding, is theirs to spend alone. The staff will get the guests some refreshments and appetizers will be ready soon, but Ben and Arthur head for Ben’s dressing room.

**Arthur**

We get inside and make quickly for Ben’s dressing room. Sam and Dylan left their stuff sneakily in mine before the wedding so that this room and time would be ours. I enter the room with Ben following me and hear him lock the door as I stop. He is behind me; his arms are around me; he is unbuttoning my jacket. Ben’s lips are at my neck and he purrs, “I love you so much husband. Arthur Alejo,” he chuckles. “I’ve never heard a more beautiful name in all my life.”

I close my eyes as he slips the jacket down my arms and I turn to meet him, grabbing his lapels and pulling him to me. “Say it again,” I plead, my lips a breath away from his.

“Arthur Alejo, my husband,” he breathes against my mouth and I crush my lips against his. His hands are in my hair, my crown disappears, and all I feel are Ben’s strong arms holding me to him by my back and the back of my head. I moan high and loud into his mouth. I break the kiss and move my lips to his neck, pulling the bowtie from his neck and pressing him back against the wall.

“Art,” he whispers against my ear as my hand unthinkingly makes its way to his belt. “Tonight, baby. We’ll have all the time in the world tonight,” he tells me as I kiss my way up his neck and down his jaw.

“I am very impatient,” I grumble against his face.

“Oh Arthur,” he holds me tighter. “Me, too. But we’ve invited a lot of people and there’s the matter of the remaining pictures to be taken. Trust me, I can’t believe I’m the one to be saying this, but we have to wait.”

I take a deep breath and step back. “Okay, but you just remember, you turned down the immediate post wedding blow that would have been my cleanest masterpiece ever,” I smirk.

Ben’s eyes grow wide and dark. “Your… yeah, okay. We have a few minutes.”

I bite my lip and step back to him, taking his hand and pulling him to the couch. I kneel in front of him and am quick with the fabric and layers and soon he is in my hand, his hand locked in my hair and I am loving my husband’s body as sensitively and sensually as a man’s mouth can. He gasps and moans as I move over him. I touch him with delicate fingers and brace myself against his belly with one hand, so he does not squirm too much.

“Art,” he whimpers, “Oh my God, baby,” and I know him. His hand clenches my shoulder as he quivers beneath me and moans low and gutturally as I swallow him down completely, leaving nothing of evidence in my wake. Every drop of him is for me and I’ve taken them all. I lick my lips as I tuck him back into place, zipping his pants back up.

I lift up, bracing myself on his thighs as I stand, and kiss him deeply. “Just a preview, husband,” I say with a smirk. Ben’s eyes darken and he kisses me again before I pull him up from the couch.

We straighten ourselves up and check each other’s appearance, flattening hair, retying bow ties, and patting out wrinkles from our clothes. I grab a bottle of water and chug half of it, sloshing it around my mouth a bit before giving him the rest. Finally, when we are both ready, I go to him and wrap my arms around him, looking up lovingly into his eyes. “I love you. I love making love to you. I love you making love to me. Can you believe? We get to do this for the rest of our lives…” I say, lovestruck and awed as I gaze at him.

He presses a gentle, unhurried kiss to my lips. “I love you and all of those things, too, but what I love most is this moment. Once we’re done with the fevered kisses and intensity of wanting one another, I am so grounded in your arms. I’m completely at peace and comfortable when I’m holding your hand or lying in your arms. No one else brings me that. Not my parents, not my brother. Just you, Art.” He lays his forehead against mine.

“We’re home for each other. I feel it, too…” I say quietly, brushing my fingertips through the hair curled around his ear. “Let’s go share it with everyone we love for a while, okay?” I suggest.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” he agrees, kissing my forehead in the gesture that never fails to make me feel safe and cared for.

**Ben**

I am still a little trembly in the aftermath of what was truly one of the cleanest sensual moments Arthur and I have ever had. I am in awe of this man. This man who loves me so fiercely and gently and with such abandon. I cannot wait for tonight. The Universe, in all its non-assholey glory, saw fit to bring us together and now we’re married. I’m so happy I can barely stand it and what we just shared was very much just the tip of a deep and vast iceberg of love and heat and lust that we barely scraped the surface of. I press a kiss to his forehead before we head back out to finish taking pictures and get the party started (which I’m trying very hard not to think about; it’s making me pretty anxious…). Arthur sighs contentedly and I am calmed a bit in the simple fact that my presence brings him peace as well.

He looks up at me, always sensing the building anxiety, somehow perfectly attuned to my mood. “You okay?” he asks, bringing a hand up and resting it against my face.

I nod, “Yeah, lots of people out there. I’m just a little in my head about it, but this was good. I know I’d be much more jittery if we hadn’t come back here. I’m okay.”

“Don’t let it get bad, Ben. This is our night. If you need a minute, if **we** need a minute, please tell me. I know you feel guilty pulling me away from things, but if 5 minutes away gets you another couple hours of chill, it’s more than worth it.”

I am skeptical. I hate when my anxiety encroaches on his propensity for being a social butterfly, but I nod anyways. I’ll do my best to tough it out, though, for him.

“Seriously, Ben. Don’t white knuckle your way through this. People can survive without us for 5 minutes every couple of hours. Promise me?” he requests, his hand under my chin forcing me to look into his eyes.

“God, I love you… Yes, I promise.”

He smiles. “Thank you. I love you, too.”

**Arthur**

We head back outside and finish up pictures. Basically, we take pictures of the two of us with all the people we’d taken solo pictures with. We also take a bunch of just Ben and I as our wedding party goes to grab some of the appetizers. On the property of the clubhouse, there is a beautiful bridge over a stream where Ben and I hold each other, kissing, talking, and nuzzling our faces together adorably as Janine and Kate snap away from far enough away that we can barely hear their camera shutters.

“Alright, boys,” Kate calls. “It’s 5:30. Time to do your grand entrance to the ballroom. They just finished seating guests at their tables and your party is waiting.”

I look up at Ben whose eyes tighten just a hare. I smile at him gently and take his face in my hands. “I am right here. We are together, and except for the fact that I desperately need to pee, we don’t have to be apart until after dinner, our table taps, our first dance, and the toasts.”

He chuckles a little. “Now that you mention it, I also need the facilities.” He winks and we walk to the golf cart we rode out to this part of the property and head back to the main building.

We excuse ourselves for a moment, to which Dylan waggles his eyebrows and Ben rolls his eyes with a smile. When we return, everyone is lined up and Kate gives our DJ the go-ahead to introduce the wedding party to the American Authors’ song “Best Day of My Life”. We all dance our way into the reception and end at our head-table as glasses everywhere around the room begin to clink. I smile widely and turn to Ben, who takes hold of me and dips me in a majorly sloppy, but crowd-pleasing kiss, if their cheers are any sign of their approval. I have to hold onto my crown to keep it on my head and when Ben stands me up, I know my smile is huge and goofy, as I’ve also gone a little wobbly about the knees.

We take our seats and the DJ announces that Mr. Alejo, Father of the Groom, would like to bless the meal for us. Ben’s dad stands and retrieves the microphone.

“First, from both Isabelle and I, we would like to thank all of you who are here for loving and supporting our son and our new son-in-law. Ben and Arthur are incredibly blessed to have so much love surrounding them in their lives. Please join me in a blessing on this meal and on the marriage of these young men.” Ben and I join hands with one another and with our party, each of whom join hands all the way down both sides of the table.

“Gracious Father, we thank you tonight for the gift and the blessing of love. We thank you for blessing us with Ben at his birth and the blessing that he has been to all who know him ever since. We thank you for blessing Ben and Arthur with one another so that you could bless us with Arthur and all who he calls family. We pray your continued blessings upon Ben and Arthur as they step forward in life together bound before you and all whom they love. We pray you would bring Ben and Arthur peace and joy in their life together in the good times, and the strength to lean on one another in the bad. We thank you, Father, for the blessing of this gathering and pray you would nourish us all with this meal and bestow upon us the blessing of a joyful celebration of the love Ben and Arthur share. We pray all this in your most Holy name, Amen.”

A chorus of “Amen” resounds and I squeeze Ben’s hand and lean in for a kiss. Ben holds my face in his free hand and looks lovingly into my eyes when we pull away. It might feel weird to know that such an overtly religious grace was said at a wedding between two men, but where my own Judaism is more of a cultural tradition for my family than a religious faith, Ben’s family holds a deep seeded faith in God that I admire and desire in my life. I know we may struggle together to find places to worship and I know there are a lot of churches that would turn us away, but I see it when Ben is praying over the dinner table, or when his parents are praying. I see the intensity of the calm that settles over his entire being. There is a sense of peace there that is wildly unexplainable, and I never want him to feel like he can’t seek that out just because I grew up Jewish. As Ben stares into my eyes, calm and content, I feel a little piece of my soul slot into its rightful place. We are married and I never have to give him up ever again. We’re it for each other. My lower lip quivers a little and I close the space between us for another kiss. Our tongues meet and caress one another for just a moment before retreating back into our own mouths as we separate just enough to connect our foreheads gently.

“I love you,” we both say at the same time. We smile and back up as our DJ begins playing some light dinner music. The wedding party is getting plated meals, while the guests will be released to get dinner from the large buffet. We had already put in our orders ahead of time, so a couple of waiters bring out our plates while several others begin releasing our guests to get their meal. 

As we are finishing our delicious meals, which consisted of a butternut squash soup appetizer, a baby spinach and strawberry salad, an herb roasted beef sirloin for me and a roasted bacon wrapped pork tenderloin for him with sides of roasted fingerling potatoes and asparagus, most of the guests have gotten theirs and are back at their tables. I sit back in my chair and look at my plate with a single potato and 2 stalks of asparagus on it and know with complete certainty that I would vomit if I tried to eat them. I glance at Ben who is swirling his final potato in the apple pork ju and popping it into his mouth and cannot believe my eyes.

“Aren’t you stuffed?” I ask. “You ate your entire meal AND tried some of mine! I could not possibly take another bite.” I am astonished.

He grins my way and drapes his arm over the back of my chair, leaning in close and whispering in my ear, “It’s really amazing how a post-wedding blow works up an appetite.” He nips gently at my earlobe and I blush more completely over my whole face and down to my chest than I’ve ever blushed in my life. Blood begins rushing places it definitely shouldn’t be right now and I bite my lip to keep from audibly gasping at exactly how turned on I am.

I grab for his hand that is conspicuously resting on my upper thigh and squeeze hard. He giggles and his nose brushes against the sensitive skin behind my ear. “Ben…” I whisper, a weak admonishment of his behavior.   
He kisses me lightly on the cheek and pulls back a little. “Okay, I’ll stop. Sorry, babe,” he says sheepishly. As I am trying to express my current state of frustration in a gaze, glasses around the room begin to clink and we both smile, stand, and wrap our arms around another for our kiss. We keep our tongues to ourselves, both sensing that we are plenty riled up already and we have several more hours of this party to endure (happily, if not a little impatiently) before we can get one another alone in our hotel room.

**Ben**

Before we completely separate, he slides a hand around the side of my neck, brushing his thumb along the line of my jaw, and brings my ear down slightly to his own lips to whisper, “Don’t be sorry. I never want to stop being turned on by you, husband.” My mouth goes dry as he presses a light kiss to my neck, pulling his hand away, sliding it across my chest. Janine pops by the front of our table and snaps a picture, so we must look adorable. As we back away, I am filled with desire for Arthur. I am so ready for tonight, but I want to enjoy this amazing (and very expensive) party we’ve thrown.

“I definitely don’t want that either,” I chuckle. “Come on, let’s go greet our guests before I have to pull you into a broom closet and ravage you.”

It is a quiet comment under my breath, but Dylan hears and whispers, “Nice,” with a laugh.

“Yep, okay. Let’s go.” He takes my hand, getting just a little more distance, and swigs the last of his Moscato D’asti from his wine glass and leaves it on the table.

We head out among our collection of guests and make the rounds to each of the 10 tables that each seat 6. We hug our friends and family, thanking them personally for coming. They rave about the ceremony and the food and the venue. They thank us for inviting them. A few of them hand us cards they forgot to leave in the card box. Arthur is in his element as he hugs and charms and works his way through the crowd. I am in awe of him. I am completely following his lead in this, letting him introduce me to his extended family. I have one aunt who has come and is sitting with my parents, my Tia Rosa, Pa’s sister, but all of my grandparents were either in PR and couldn’t make it, or passed before I could remember them. As he introduced me, I could not help but notice the pride with which he announced, “This is Ben, my husband.” They’d ask what I do, and Arthur didn’t even give me a chance to respond before gushing, “Ben is the Fantasy and YA manager at the Strand, that famous used bookstore in Manhattan.” I couldn’t even get mad at him for not really letting me talk, he was bubbling over with so much pride. He knew this was the hard part; the people. Being around people I didn’t know, having to talk to them, these things cause my anxiety to skyrocket. Arthur took complete command as I shook hands or gave hugs and smiled with my arm around his waist. He was a Rockstar.

Once we have made it to all of the tables, while everyone is still eating, I tug on Arthur’s arm and ask quietly, “Can we take a minute outside?”

He looks up at me and nods, his brow furrowing in concern as he takes my hand and we walk to the exit toward the back patio. There is a small sitting area there with one of those tall, thin cigarette disposal receptacles. I head for one of the cushioned chairs and sit down, pulling him into my lap, wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning my head against his shoulder. His arm goes around my shoulders and he moves his other hand into my hair, gently massaging the back of my scalp.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

I nod. “Yeah, just needed that minute, just me and you. You were amazing in there. I thought meeting everyone new would be the hard part, but you just took over.”

“Yeah, sorry. I knew you were nervous. I may have overcompensated,” he says sheepishly.

“No,” I lift his chin to align his eyes with my own. “It was exactly what I needed. I just wanted to bring you out here to thank you, and to get a minute alone with you.”

His face brightens and he links his hands together behind my neck, leaning in and pressing a light kiss to my forehead. “I want it to be a good night for you,” he says softly.

Emotion builds in my throat. I know how much thought he’s put into tonight and making it perfect. I hate that he feels like he has to be “on” all night just so that I can relax, but I also love that he’s wholeheartedly taken that on so I don’t have to and can follow his lead. “It’s amazing, Arthur,” I say quietly, rubbing my hand up and down his back as he “hmm”s his approval and settles against me. “You really are proud of me aren’t you?” I ask softly, still a little amazed. He says it all the time, but I know the complication that my anxiety, my injury, my less than a career job brings to his life, our life. I know he makes just about double what I do. I know having to deal with my anxiety is hard. My injury is mostly a non-issue, but it took over our lives for about 6 months amidst the wedding planning.

He pulls back and his eyes have gone glassy and wide. “Ben…” he chokes a little and swallows roughly. He takes my chin in one hand and lifts my face to his as his fingers continue to play with the tuft of hair at the nape of my neck where my cowlicks come together. “Do you even realize?” he asks, seeming shocked, emotion still thickening his voice. “The things you’ve overcome to get to where you are, the struggles you dealt with in school, in college, the accident… you are the strongest, SMARTEST, most incredible man. I could not be prouder of you. Whatever you do from here, write a book or start a business or stay right where you are because it’s safe for you, I am overflowing with pride that you’re mine, that you’re healthy, that you love me and I love you.”

I blink up at the night sky littered with stars and nod. I can think of nothing to say, so I kiss him and whisper, “I love you, too.” I hold him closer and he presses his face against my neck.

“Hey guys?” Jessie says. “Everything okay out here?”

Arthur lifts up and nods. “Yeah, Jess. We’re good.”

“Okay, they want to cut the cake. You ready?”

He looks to me and I nod, so we get up and follow Jessie back inside. Most everyone has finished dinner and our parents and photographers are waiting just inside. “Alright gentlemen, whenever you’re ready. The cake, a simple two-tiered situation covered in blue fondant with silver edible ribbons around the bottom of each tier and a script font mirrored A as the topper, has been wheeled into the middle of the dance floor so everyone can see,” Kate explains.

We nod and head inside hand in hand to stand behind the cake. When we are in position, the DJ announces, “Ladies and Gentlemen, if you would please direct your attention to the dance floor for the cutting of the cake.”

“So we’re not shoving this in each other’s faces, right?” I ask.

“Hmm, licking frosting off your face sounds ridiculously tempting… maybe just a little?” he smiles mischievously.

“Okay, a little works,” I say with a smirk, picking up the cake knife and holding it out for him to hold with me as I wrap and arm around his waist.

We cut a slice from the second layer, which is lemon cake with raspberry filling and a whipped icing. The piece falls into two perfect pieces where the filling is so I take the top and he takes the bottom (which is how we’ll be taking things all night if I have my way). At this thought, I smile widely and hold my piece up as Arthur does the same. As we move in toward one another with the pieces of cake, I get a little frosting on the tip of my finger and once we’ve both stuck cake in each other’s mouths, which is just messy even if you don’t shove it anywhere, I swipe the frosting on his nose. He looks surprised but then takes a bit of frosting from the cake knife and swipes it on my nose. I laugh and so do all of our guests as I go in and smoosh our noses together then kiss the frosting off his nose and he does the same for me. We are given napkins to clean up and then we kiss, sweet and soft, the taste of the raspberry filling still on our lips.

The kitchen staff wheels our cake away to be cut up and served while our DJ moves us right along into our first dance. I’m not sure what the song is, Arthur picked it, but I trust him. As the music begins to play, a gentle acoustic guitar, and a man’s voice sings Zoe’s part in “Only Us” from Dear Evan Hansen, my eyes are immediately full of tears as I rest my forehead against Arthur’s as we sway to the violin and Ben Levi Ross’s voice. When Taylor Trensch comes in, Arthur is singing to me, and tears spill freely down my cheeks as I hold him close and listen to his perfect voice sing our song. When it’s finished, we stop swaying and he brushes tears away from my cheeks as I take a deep breath a pull myself together.

“That was perfect, Art,” I say softly and hug him to me tightly.

“It’s our song, always has been. The fact that it’s gay just makes it even more us,” he giggles.

I chuckle as well and kiss him, soft but insistent. “I love you, my Arturo,” I whisper against his lips.

“I love you, Ben,” he breathes and kisses me again. 

As we pull away, we each take a deep breath and I kiss his forehead. This is the hard part. “And now, Ben will have a dance with Isabelle, Mother of the Groom.”

Arthur’s eyes glass over immediately and a sad smile plays on his lips as he steps away and Ma steps in and John Lennon’s Beautiful Boy begins to play. Arthur moves to the edge of the room and stands with his dad as I sway slowly with my beautiful mother.

“Te ves hermosa, mama,” I whisper to her.

“Gracias, Benito. Te ves muy guapo,” she says, smoothing my lapels as we spin in gentle circles in the center of the dance floor. “I’m so happy for you, Ben. It is every mother’s wish to see her son love and be loved like you and Arthur love each other,” she tells me thickly, tears brimming in her eyes, her hands resting gently on my shoulders as she kisses my cheek.

“Thank you, Ma. Thank you for always being supportive. Thank you for always accepting me,” I say around my own emotions. “I would be nowhere without your and Pa’s support.” I kiss her cheek and, as the song ends, I back up and lift her hand for her to twirl just one, then pull her back in and hug her tight. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mijo.”

She caresses my face and I begin to walk away, expecting her to follow, but she stays put, and I look at her with a furrowed brow until our DJ announces, “Isabelle would like to invite her new Son-in-law to the dance floor for his own mother-son dance.”

My eyes fill immediately as I look to Arthur who looks stricken, but then his cheeks go blotchy and as he moves toward me to trade places with me, I pull him in for a light kiss on the cheek and a whispered, “I love you,” in his ear.

As he takes his place, settling one hand on my mom’s waist and taking her hand in the other, I stand behind our guests, next to Michael, as tears run with abandon down both our faces.

**Arthur**

I am, frankly, a hot mess. Watching Ben dance with his mom was rough, knowing I don’t get to have this moment with my own beautiful mother who would have relished in the joy of this moment with me and us. However, the fact that Isabelle had the forethought to ask the DJ to allow me a similar moment, is beyond touching. She is another mother for me and, while she couldn’t possibly replace the amazing woman that was Mara Seuss, she brings so much joy and love to my little family already.

“I’ll Be There,” by the Jackson 5 begins to play and I pretty much completely lose it. We aren’t even really dancing. I have wrapped her in a vice-like hug and she is swaying side to side, rocking me like a child as I cry on her shoulder. “Th-thank you Isabelle. F-for taking me in and f-for making m-me feel a-at home. F-for everything,” I sob.

“Oh, my Arthur, mijo, of course. You are our family, too,” she says gently as she rubs my back and holds me close. She sings to me gently and, in the last couple of choruses, I am able to pull myself together enough to sway with her in an actual dance. I miss my mom so much right now, but Isabelle brings a softness to the edge of the grief I’m feeling, like I know Mom is blessing this moment we’re having.

When the song ends, Ben comes to us. He kisses his mom on the forehead and whispers his thanks and then takes my hand.

“You okay?” he asks. I nod, holding tightly to his hand, still unable to speak really, and we make our way toward our head table because it is time for Dylan and Jessie to make their speeches. Our DJ announces for everyone to make sure they have a drink for the toasts as we sit down to fresh glasses of our own preferred drinks, Moscato D’asti for me and Sangria for him.

When the DJ requests that everyone have a seat so that toasts could begin, the bustle of the crowd settles and he says, “First up, the lovely Jessie, Arthur’s Best Lady.”

Ben and I both smile at that as Jessie stands and pulls out her phone to read her speech, picking up the handheld mic she’d been given.

“Good evening, everyone, my name is Jessie and as you know, I’m Arthur’s best friend. Arthur and Ethan and I have known one another since the first day of kindergarten, but we didn’t really get close until middle school, where we all wanted to be in the spring musicale and the rest was history. For the next 6 years of our lives, we would be inseparable. We were in every musical, we were at one another’s houses every day after school and all weekend, our moms were best friends. When Art came out to us, Ethan and I were dealing with our own drama that didn’t allow us to be as supportive in Arthur’s life that summer, but Arthur found Ben, and Ben showed him that there’s no one right way to be gay, and no one right way to be a best friend, and that sometimes the Universe has its assholish moments, but if you give the people you love a chance, they will most likely surprise you for the better. Standing here now, seeing where this road has taken them, I could not be prouder of this man who I consider in every way but blood to be my brother, and I could not be prouder to welcome Ben into our little chosen family. You gentlemen show us all what love can do when it’s given a chance. To Ben and Arthur,” she finishes and sets her phone down to raise a glass.

“To Ben and Arthur!” the crowd calls back as we all drink and I stand to wrap Jessie in a tight hug, pulling Ethan up into it as well. He wraps his big, bulky arms around us both and we squeeze Jess tight in the middle as she squeals and laughs. We each press a kiss to one of her cheeks and I thank The Universe and Kate when I hear the camera shutter click because I love this moment with them. As we disentangle and sit down, still laughing, Jessie hands the mic over to Dylan. 

“Oh boy, here it comes,” I say to Ben and he laughs as we turn toward Dylan.

“Nothing inappropriate, D,” he says sternly, with a smirk.

“Inappropriate? From moi? I would never…” Dylan winks at us as he lifts the mic.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I’m Dylan, and Bennasaur has been my best friend since, well, basically forever. I remember the day he met Arthur, actually. There was some other drama happening on our end, too, but when Ben told me about the nerdy kid in the hotdog tie that he met in the post office, something sparked for him. Against all odds and adversity, Arthur found Ben, which I’ll take credit for because I gave Ben the Dream and Bean shirt he was wearing which led to Arthur’s placement of the poster in the coffee shop we frequented in the first place. I digress, they found one another and even though they couldn’t make it work right then, and even though I was a wee bit jealous that my best bro had another best friend (yes, Arthur, I know what he called that silly box he sent you…)” Everyone laughs and I scoot closer to Ben, resting my chin on his shoulder and kissing his cheek as we both listen to Dylan continue. “I knew that when Ben was with Arthur, he was happier and an even better friend. That summer wasn’t just a breakthrough for us in finding our own soulmates, Big Ben, we became better bros, and not just bros, but Brothers with a capital B. You and Arthur deserve all the happiness in the world, and I will do everything in my power to assure that that’s what you get, gentlemen.” He lifts his beer. “To Mister and Mister Alejo! Cheers, boys!”

“Cheers!” We all respond.

Ben stands and locks Dylan in the most solid bro hug. Just barely, I hear Dylan say, “Love you, B.”

“Love you, D,” Ben replies.

They both sniff a little as they separate and Dylan hands me the mic.

I stand next to Ben and we each wrap an arm around one another. “Friends and family, Good evening. Ben and I want to thank you for being here with us. The road to one another and to this day has not been easy, but amongst the sad or hard moments, there has been so much joy, and we know that more of both are headed our way. We also know,” I look to Ben and smile, “that the joys we share with one another will outweigh whatever struggles we have because we’ll face them together. We know that all of you are here for us in both good times and bad, and we are so grateful for each and every one of you. Please, enjoy this night. Party and drink and for the love of our waistlines, eat cake! We love you all!” I click off the mic, set it on the table, and turn to pull Ben in for a full on make out, getting plenty of cheers from the crowd as the DJ turns up the dance music and people make their way out onto the floor.

When we separate, I see Ben’s eyes are bright and his cheeks are flushed. “You wanna dance?” I ask, hopeful.

“Fuck yeah I want to dance, let’s go!” We go out on the floor and dance with our friends and family to all of the hits: “Get Low”, “Yeah!”, “Apple Bottom Jeans”, “Timber”. We jump like we’re at a rock concert to old-school punk rock like “Crushcrushcrush”, “Sugar, we’re going down”, “Check Yes, Juliet”, and “I’m Just a Kid”. Finally, after about an hour and a half, the DJ has mercy on us.

Ben and I have shed our jackets, bowties, and beautiful cufflinks, and rolled up our sleeves, but we are still pouring with sweat. Our crowns are magically still on our heads, but they’re very lopsided. As the Dj says he’s going to slow it down for a few songs, we breath deeply and go to the bar asking for water. We chug a cup of water each as Adele’s beautiful vocals drift from the speakers singing “Remedy” and we set the cups down.

“May I have this dance?” I ask, holding my hand out to him.

“And every other dance you want for the rest of your life,” he says, placing his hand in mine.

When we get to the dance floor, he lifts my hand to his shoulder and wraps his arms around my waist so he can pull me close. I link my hands together behind his neck and look up into his eyes, singing along. Ben rests his forehead against mine and listens as we sway. The next song played is Selena’s Dreaming of You, and Ben lifts up, his brow furrowing a little, “Did you give him a playlist of songs you sing to me?”

I blush a bit and bite my lip. “I may have suggested a few things,” I admit sheepishly.

He shakes his head smiling, “I love you; you know that?”

We see Ben’s parents take the floor and Isabelle looks lovingly into Diego’s eyes as she sings the sweet song to him. I wrap my arms more tightly around Ben’s neck and sing in his ear. The next song to come on is Ben Platt’s “Ease my Mind” and I caress Ben’s neck and shoulders as I hold him close and sing:

_“Darling, only you can ease my mind_   
_Help me leave these lonely thoughts behind_   
_When they pull me under, and I can feel my sanity start to unwind_   
_Darling, only you can ease my mind.”_

Ben’s head rests heavy on my shoulder and I feel warm drops against my neck as he grasps me tighter. I press gentle kisses to his neck and shoulder between lyrics…

_“But when you collect me with your steady hand_   
_With a language that I understand_   
_I feel put back together inside”_

As the song comes to a close, I pull Ben’s face in front of mine and clear tears from his cheeks. “I love you, Ben. I love that I can calm you down and bring you back when you’re reeling. Please, don’t ever think of yourself as a burden, baby… please.” I kiss him and do my best to infuse as much strength and pride and love as I can into the moment. He holds me tightly around my back and with a hand in my hair holding my face to his. I moan just a little into the kiss as he opens my mouth with his tongue. I am grasping at his back for dear life trying to hold it together because we are in such a public space. It is coming up on 10 and we have the venue until 11, but I’m very much about letting everyone else take it from here. I extricate myself carefully and ask as quietly as I can under the pounding of Panic!’s “High Hopes”, “Are you ready to go?”

“Are you?” he asks, pulling me off the dance floor to a slightly quieter part of the room. “I don’t want to take you from this, but if I’m being honest, I am very ready to be alone with you, more for the quiet than anything…” He looks exhausted, physically and mentally.

“This night has been all I wanted and more. It’s time. Let’s get D and Ethan and load up our truck with the gifts. The staff here takes care of all of the clean-up, and they’ll have the vases and everything ready for pickup tomorrow. We can go, Ben. We don’t want to be too worn out,” I tell him with a wink.

He sighs, visibly relieved at the prospect of getting out of here and I take his hand as we head to gather up our things. Dylan, Jackson, and Ethan help us get everything in the truck and Jessie, Sam, and our parents all come out to exchange hugs and we tell them we’ll see them at breakfast in the hotel lobby in the morning. We purposely did not plan a major fanfare for our exit so as not to stir up any additional anxiety. We head back to the hotel and take the card box up with us while making sure the Tahoe is locked up tight. We stop in Dylan and Sam’s room to grab Ben’s stuff and then head to my suite. I tell Ben to put his things in the closet just inside the hallway and then close his eyes.

“Surprises?” he asks with a smile. He is so much more visibly chill now that we are away from a crowd. Regular crowds, like on the streets of the city or in the park, don’t really trigger his anxiety because he doesn’t have to talk to them; there aren’t any expectations. Tonight must have made him feel completely out of control. I wave my hand in front of his eyes to make sure he’s not peeking and then I take his hands, backing into the room, leading him with me. When we get into the bedroom of the suite, I whisper, “Open.”

**Ben**

The room has a King size bed, fresh with new sheets and blankets from housekeeping, and sprinkled with a heart made of rose petals. There is a stand with a bottle of champagne chilling and a few candles are lit on each nightstand. “I may have slid the staff a little something to decorate,” Arthur says quietly.

“It’s beautiful, Arthur,” I breathe around the emotion in my throat. I kiss him gently, the low burn in my belly igniting immediately. I lace my fingers through his. “Let’s take a shower,” I suggest softly, running my fingers around his ear, tucking the hair there behind it.

“Okay,” he agrees.

We help each other finish unbuttoning and unsnapping. We are slow, deliberate. We don’t want to rush this, even though it’s been a couple of days and we both really just want to jump each other, we know this is the only first time we’ll get as husbands. We know each other. If one of us gets caught up, we both will, so we are trying desperately to take in every second of this moment. Every brush of skin, every look, every kiss. We don’t rush it. We get to the bathroom having completely stripped and I turn on the hot water as Arthur runs gentle fingertips along the inside of my bicep. I bite my lip and turn to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, and tug him gently into the steamy shower. We wet our hair and let the hot water run over our bodies, relaxing the tension of the day away. We scrub one another down with our loofas and hold each other as the water rinses away the soap. We want to be fresh and clean for one another tonight, our first night as husbands. We step out and towel off. Our erections have been constant, but we are calm as we head toward the bedroom. I close the door and Arthur steps toward the bed, his bare back glowing in the gentle candlelight which is all the light in the room. I move behind him and brush myself against his backside, moving my hands around his waist, spreading one wide across his pelvis. I drop light kisses against his bare neck and shoulder as his head drops back against my shoulder. My lips are against his ear, suckling at his earlobe as he grows more firm in front of my fingers on his stomach. I see his tip begin to glisten and whisper, “Tell me what you want.”

“Take me, Ben. I’m all yours, baby,” he whimpers. I press myself closer against his ass cheeks and he gasps.

I chuckle under my breath. “You know me better than that. I want you to be ready for me,” I say low into his ear. I step away from him and, as pretty as it is, fling the comforter into the air so that the rose petals fly onto the floor and the bed is clean for us, then take his hand, bringing him to the bed. “Lie down,” I tell him gently.

“The bottle’s in the nightstand, I got the warming one we really liked,” he says quietly. “There’s also some of that one that tastes like fruit punch,” he smiles. He has acquired all of our favorite things.

I open the drawer and pull out the bottles. “I think we’ll start with this,” I say softly, holding up the fruity colored one, climbing across the bed toward him. I kneel between his legs which are spread wide and open for me as he is ready for whatever I have in store for him. His eyes are calm and dark as his desire grows and pulses between his legs. I lift toward him and kiss him deeply. He moans loudly into my kiss, pushing his fingers into my hair, very ready not to have to curb his enthusiasm anymore as we’ve been holding this in for days now.

“Ben…” he whimpers my name needily.

“I’m here, baby,” I say softly, taking a little of the reddish liquid on my fingers and beginning to stroke him gently beneath me. As I work my fingers firmly up and down, my lips make their way down his gorgeous body. I lick and suck at one nipple as he squirms toward me. I keep travelling down, nuzzling my nose in his happy trail as my lips finally reach the well-trimmed hair between his hips. His legs are splayed wide open and I press my lips to that sensitive skin at the inside joint of his hip. I feel a little of him spill onto my hand as I lick that place. Finally, I press my lips to his most sensitive place, licking around him to take what he’s already spilled.

“Baby…” he cries, pressing up into my mouth. The fruity liquid is coating all of him and I am gentle as I take him into my mouth. I press with my lips and lick and suck as I pull back to the top as if he is my popsicle on a hot summer day. I press my hands against his legs which strain against my grip. I pull away slightly, Arthur breathless and wanting before me, and get some of the warming liquid on my thumb. As I return my lips to him, I press my slick thumb against his tight opening, and he cries out. “Oh! Oh Ben, yes, please! Oh my God…” As I massage his tightness and work my thumb past the opening, I use my lips and tongue to continue to stroke him gently. As my thumb presses in and gains entrance to his most private place, he spills all of himself into my mouth. I take everything there is and leave him clean and damp, but still wanting more. I remove my thumb and get more of the warming gel, spreading it around over his opening as he makes the sexiest little whimpers and grasps my shoulders as I move up so that my slick tip is at his entrance. “Do you need…” he starts, breathless, reaching a hand down, but I silence him with a kiss.

“No baby, I’m good. Are you ready?” I ask gently, as I support myself on one elbow, with my fingers in his soft black hair.

“Mmhmm, please Ben, please,” he pleads.

I run a hand up the backside of his leg from his knee to his butt and grab on tightly, spreading him just a little more before beginning to press into him. He gasps as his pressure closes around me, and I am almost undone. “Oh, Arthur, baby,” I breathe against his ear.

“All the way, Ben. I want all of you,” he begs, wrapping his legs around me.

I press more firmly until I am fully seated against him. The warmth of the gel is beginning to do its work on me, and I begin with a small thrust which makes us both quiver.

“Go,” he whispers and I begin to rock in a gentle rhythm at first, then picking up speed and intensity as I feel the tension building inside of me. Arthur holds me tightly and every moan and whimper is like fuel for me as the pressure of him around me brings me to the edge. What does me in entirely, though, is the “I love you” he whimpers into my ear when I’m almost there, and I press into him forcefully one last time as I explode and moan loudly over several waves of my release.

I am spent as I rest my body fully against him, our hips locked together. I gently caress his face as we both quiver from our releases and I pull away from him. Once he can, Arthur turns the tables and has his way with me as well. “Let’s go rinse off,” he suggests once we are done, and I nod up at him with a crooked smile. He takes my hand and we make our way back into the bathroom and he turns on the shower. He lets me get in first and then we are in together, rinsing away the stickiness of ourselves away and then holding each other in the warmth of the steamy water.

“Are you as tired as I am?” I ask with a chuckle.

“So tired,” he looks up at me sleepily as the water drips from his eyelashes.

“Time for bed?” I ask.

“I want to make more love to you,” he says with a pout, locking his arms around my neck. “But I do want sleep.”

“You know, we have the rest of our lives. We can sleep and keep going in the morning, or if one of us wakes up ready to go in the middle of the night, we can wake the other up,” I tell him.

“Morning sex is always good,” he agrees and kisses my neck.

We finish the second shower and dry off, then get into just boxer briefs and climb into the side of the bed we purposely left clean after blowing out the candles. I open my arms and Arthur wraps himself around me, one leg over mine, basically laying across my chest, sealing us together with an arm around me. I caress the soft skin of his back with my fingertips and my other hand is trailing fingers through his damp, dark hair.

“How are you, Ben?” he murmurs quietly against my chest, one hand moving up to gently rest against my neck, subtly feeling my pulse.

I smile. He’s still concerned with my mental state. He lets us have a moment, but he never, when he knows I’m struggling, forgets to check in, even when he’s exhausted.

“I’m perfect, baby. Calm and sleepy, just like you. You’re right here in my arms and I could not be happier right now,” I tell him and kiss his temple.

“Hmmm,” he sighs sleepily. “I love you, Ben-Jamin.”

“I love you, my Mighty Arturo…” I whisper. “Thank you for everything you did today to make it easier for me, you are my hero.”

“Mmm, happy husband, happy wedding,” he mumbles, a smile playing on his sleepy face. He cuddles in even closer and presses a kiss to my clavicle, sighing contentedly as we both drift off to sleep.

I don’t know how long later it is, but I hear Arthur’s voice in the distance calling me, but there are headlights coming toward me and suddenly I gasp and call out for him. My eyes shoot open and I sit up, but he is there, already awake, his hands on my face. I reach for him, pulling him into my arms and he rests his forehead against my temple. “You okay?” His voice is riddled with worry and I hold him closer.

“Yeah, was I talking in my sleep again?” I ask.

“Just crying… like you were scared… then you called my name,” he explains, still sounding worried. It’s pitch black in the room, so I can’t see him. I can only feel him shaking a little, or is that me? Maybe it’s both of us… 

“It was the headlights… I haven’t had that one in a while…” I muse.

I lift a hand to my face and he’s right; I have been crying. My cheeks are wet with tears. He helps me clear them before we lie back down together. This time, it is me curling around him. My face is pressed into the crook of his neck and my arm is across his chest as his arms encircle my broad back and shoulders and I am covering most of his torso with the way my body lays against him. One of my legs is slung over one of his, so it is between his. I realize it is me who is shaking as Arthur covers us again with the comforter and lightly plays with my hair. He turns his head and his lips land just next to my ear and he sings the chorus of the song we walked down the aisle to:

_"I may not be wise_   
_And I won't save the day_   
_But look in my eyes_   
_And know I'll always stay_   
_And I won't run away_   
_I won't run away"_

He sings it over and over, just the chorus, like he’s reminding me that the lyrics are true for him, too. As his voice washes over me, my nerves calm, my body stills, my heart slows, and I am back to center.

“I don’t know how you do that,” I say softly once he’s stopped singing.

He keeps massaging my scalp gently and says, “I know you, Ben. I know that when you’re losing it, you don’t want me to know because you don’t want to be a burden. I know that you don’t like to show weakness because you have typically been the strong one in our relationship. I know you can’t control what’s happening in your mind when you have an attack or a dream. I know you are out of control, so you need me to be in control and help you find yours, and sometimes to just remind you that I’m not going anywhere. So, I sing you Ben Platt and Adele because they sing about someone you love being able to ease your mind, and not running away in the hard times, and when the world gets to be too much you can lean on the one you love. My repertoire is very purposely attuned to what you need to hear, baby,” he explains softly. “Because I’m not going anywhere and you will be okay, okay?”

Emotion has balled up in my throat again and my face is turned into his neck as tears escape my eyes. “Okay,” I whisper, taking a deep shaky breath and pulling my face away so that it is lying next to his on the pillow. “I love you, Arthur. I love that you know me so well and that your touch and your voice bring me more calm than a pill or a strategy ever could. I love you so much… I think I need to see someone, though, professionally… I will always be calmed the most by you, but I need to be able to control this at work and when we have to be away from each other. Hopefully that’s not for a long time, but eventually one of us will have to go somewhere out of town or something, and I can’t just lose it and have no other way to reign myself in,” I admit.

“Okay, we’ll set it up as soon as we get back from the honeymoon. There is no shame in getting help and I will be as involved or hands off as you want. Just say the word,” he agrees, pressing his lips to my forehead.

I breathe deeply again, pressing more solidly against him. “I…I’m scared…” I confess quietly.

“Oh, Ben, of course you are.” He holds me closer. “We’ll do whatever it takes so that you feel safe again. You hear me? Whatever it takes.” He is crying now, too, as he pulls my face to his and kisses me. “I love you so much.”

**Arthur**

We lie together in silence for a while, neither of us sleeping, just listening to the gentle rhythm of one another breathing. As the room begins to lighten with the sunrise, I can see Ben’s soft brown eyes staring into mine. There is a little fear there, but mostly love. I rest my hand against his face and press my lips to his, moving so that I am straddling his hips, his hands landing on my thighs in the course of the motion. He moves to sit up so that I am in his lap and he is holding me firmly around my back. We have to maneuver a lot to be bare before one another again, but we manage it with smiles and awkward noises and laughter. He grabs the bottle and makes me ready for him as his touch inspires my gentle moans. Then, I am one with him again, we are one and whole together as we move with one another. I am moving over him, and we are moaning loudly together as we kiss each other on the lips, the neck, the chest. He is within me and all around me as his arms encase my body. He is gentle and firm and we slide together like a lock and its key, a perfect fit, opening ourselves for each other. I am careful with him in my concern for him, but he needs to feel the intensity of my adoration. His face is buried in my chest as we rise together. My fingers are laced into his hair as I brace my weight on his shoulders with my elbows to control our pace. I whisper that I love him and that he is gorgeous and strong and safe as I hold onto him tightly and we reach release together. I don’t know that we’ve ever had comfort sex before, but I, for one, have never been more comforted by a sensual act in my life. Ben kisses my neck and cheek and softly kisses me on the lips as our breathing regulates. I move off of him, but not away from him, holding tightly to him still.

“Hey,” he says softly, holding my face in both hands. His eyes are brighter, calmer, and I’m more at ease because I can see that he is.

“You’re okay now…” I say. “I can see it in your eyes.” I gently caress his cheeks with my thumbs.

“I am,” he says with a light kiss to the tip of my nose. “Asking for help isn’t easy… but needing it and not getting it is worse. Don’t let me slack off on this, babe…”

I shake my head. “Absolutely not.” I kiss him, full and insistent on the lips. “You’re going on my insurance as soon as we get back. We have awesome Mental Health and therapy coverage,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and kissing his neck gently, nuzzling my nose there after my kisses. “You are going to get better, and you are going to feel safe and confident in your own skin again,” I pledge to him. “Until then, I’m here so that you know you’re safe.” I disentangle myself from around him and gently lay him back against the pillows, laying on top of him, my still present excitement not yet satisfied. Ben looks at me with raised eyebrows as I rub against him. “My turn?” I ask hopefully.

Ben smiles and nods, moving to open himself to me, and once I make sure he is ready, we are one again. I love how he bites his lip and whimpers and moans at my touch, my presence, my girth. He grasps my arms and shoulders tightly as I fill him and press against him. When I am almost there, he tenses his legs around me, holding me against him as I reach completion. I collapse against his chest after I separate myself from him and he holds me close.

“I hate to say this, love, but we do need to stop having sex just for a little while so we can go have breakfast with our friends,” Ben tells me with a chuckle.

He looks up at me and rests a hand against my face. “But how could I possibly stop worshipping the body of my very own Adonis?”

Ben blushes and smiles. “We have the rest of forever together to make love to each other,” he tells me with a kiss. “But we love other people, too. So, let’s go take yet another shower, and put on some clothes so that we stop ravaging one another and can get to our honeymoon where we can do as much ravaging as we’d like all week long.”

“I suppose you’re right,” I agree begrudgingly and then smile.

We shower together, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t talk him into some shower sex, because I totally did; well, there wasn’t much talking involved… but eventually we are cleaned up, dried off, and dressed. We pack up all of our things and as I am giving the room a once over in the doorway to be sure we have everything, Ben wraps his arms around me from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “I kind of wish we could just stay in a room like this for 5 days,” he says with a low chuckle. 

“Nah,” I say, turning around in his arms and lifting mine up around his neck. “I want to show off my husband. I want to sign stuff with my new last name. I want to be with you in the world where you and everyone else can see how proud of you I am.”

Ben’s eyes soften where they had been dark with desire and he smiles. “I love you so much. Have I told you that lately? You’re the actual best husband a guy could ask for,” he says, pulling me in and hugging me extra tight.

“Sounds familiar,” I laugh, squeezing him tightly in return, breathing in the gently spicy scent of his body spray. “Damn you smell good,” I groan as I drag him out of the room.

We head down to breakfast meeting Dylan and Sam on our way to the elevator.

“Gentlemen!” Dylan greets us, arms wide and shit-eating grin cemented in place.

“Hey D,” Ben chuckles, shaking his head as he goes in for the hug.

Sam hugs me and we all step into the elevator.

“So, good night?” D asks, eyebrows waggling wildly.

We smile and Ben pulls me back against him, his arms hanging loosely around my waist from behind. “What do you think, babe? Was it a good night?” he asks, nuzzling his nose against my cheek making me giggle.

I turn my head and kiss him. “The best night,” I say softly, resting my forehead against his.

We hear Dylan sniffle loudly and turn to look at him, seeing honest to goodness tears in his eyes. “You okay, D-man?” Ben asks.

“I…yeah…I just know… everything you’ve…been through….and to see…how far you’ve…come is so beautiful!!” he swipes at the tears and pulls himself together with a deep breath as he holds onto Samantha.

Ben steps out from behind me and squeezes Dylan’s shoulder, quietly saying, “Thanks, man.” They go in for a softer, more real brotherly hug as we reach the ground.

The remainder of the morning goes well. We have breakfast with our parents and wedding parties and whichever of our guests were left at the hotel, and then we all check out around 11. Isabelle and Diego gave us big hugs and said they’d see us next Sunday for dinner. Jackson, Jessie, and Ethan all passed us around for hugs as well, promising to get into the city soon so we could actually hang out. Finally, it’s just my dad. We are standing behind our Tahoe, Dylan and Sam are all loaded up. They ran the rental up to the venue to grab the decorations we had to pick up and we are dropping them off on our way through Manhattan. I am fiddling with the keys when Ben snags them and gives my dad a hug.

“Thanks for everything, Mike. Come see us soon, okay?” he requests.

“Of course, bud. Definitely this summer,” he confirms with a pat on Ben’s back.

Ben squeezes my arm and says he’s going to start the car, giving us a moment alone. I smile my thanks as I move into the circle of my dad’s arms and we lock in a tight embrace.

“Proud of you, kid. I’m so happy for you and I know Mom is smiling on you and Ben. I love you so much, Art.” He holds me tight and I sniffle against his chest.

“Thanks, Dad. Love you, too. You seriously have to get up here this summer. We don’t see enough of you…” I say sadly. “I worry about you in Milton all alone…” I confess.

“It is getting pretty lonely down there… maybe I’ll look at getting up here permanently soon. Maybe near Bubbe. You don’t have to worry about me though, bud. I’m okay.” He holds me away from him at arms length and says, “Relax, Art. Have fun with Ben this week. You both deserve it.”

I nod and quirk a half smile. “We will. Bye, Dad. See you soon.”

“See you soon.” He pulls me in for one last hug and we hold on tight for a moment and then he squeezes my shoulder and walks away to his rental as I circle ours and get in the driver’s seat.

As I buckle up and settle in, I feel Ben’s hand curl around my elbow and his thumb lightly brush against my arm. I turn and look at him to see a mild look of concern in his eyes and I smile. I reach over myself and take his hand in mine, pulling it up to my lips to press a kiss to the back. His concern seems alleviated and we get on the road. Before long, Sam and Dylan have curled up together in the back and are fast asleep. Ben has tilted his seat back and has one hand curled around my elbow again, just wanting the small bit of physical connection as we drive through the small towns between Newburgh and Manhattan.

As I pull up in front of Dylan and Sam’s building, they are stretching out and groaning as they wake from their nap. “Alright, here you go,” I say.

Ben gets out to help them and before they get out, Sam leans up front and pecks a kiss on my cheek and Dylan squeezes my shoulder. “Have fun in Florida,” they say.

When Ben gets back in the car and they have gone inside, we head back to our apartment. We have a pretty solid chunk of time before we have to head to the airport. The car isn’t due back until 5 and our flight isn’t until 8:45, so we unload the Tahoe into the service elevator and I take it to find a parking spot for the afternoon.

When I get up to our door, Ben has seemingly gotten everything into the apartment and is waiting for me outside the door, leaning against the door jamb with a smile on his face.

“You get everything inside?” I ask, my brow furrowing as I peer into the open apartment.

“Not everything, I’d like to carry my groom across our threshold if he doesn’t mind,” he grins.

I laugh as he comes to me and wraps his arms around me under my ass, and lifts me up so my legs lock around his waist and I hold onto him tightly around his neck. He turns and moves toward the door while I begin kissing his neck. He grips me tighter and says, “Welcome home, Mr. Alejo.” His words are low and husky and he kicks the door closed behind us. He walks into the kitchen and sets me on the counter, so I loosen my grip and move my lips to his, sealing us in a passionate kiss. Tongues tangle, clothes are shed, and our hands roam one another’s bodies in a flurry of lust. We press and touch and grasp at one another and finally tumble together into our bed where we claim every part of each other.

**Ben**

When we have had our fill of one another (for now) and are laying together, Arthur curled around me, my head resting on top of his as I lightly run my fingers up and down his back, I sigh contentedly. “We should get ready to head to the airport,” I say against the top of his head.

He nods and presses a kiss to my chest, my neck, my lips as he turns to look up at me. “One more shower?” he asks with a smile.

I smile and nod, throwing the covers off of us so we can head to the bathroom. I know we’re young and our libidos are seemingly endless at this point, but I know we’ll be able to satisfy each other emotionally and physically for as long as we both shall live. As I step into the shower behind him, marveling in the lean muscles along his back and the smooth curve under the dimples at the bottom of his back, I am overwhelmed. He is mine forever. His body is mine and mine his as often as he’ll have me. His mind is mine to pick through and listen to his ideas and his experiences forever. His heart is mine to care for and he chooses to care for me. I wrap an arm around Arthur’s waist from behind, spreading a hand over his smooth stomach, the other arm sliding around his chest, holding him over his strong heartbeat, pulling him back against me as I rest my forehead against the top of his head and the hot water spills over us both.

“I love you, Arthur. Every atom of me loves you more than I can begin to explain,” I say softly, emotion thick in my voice.

He sighs and settles back against me. “It’s overwhelming isn’t it? We’re so young, but our love, the connection we have, it’s so totally all-consuming.” His voice is choked and he turns around in my arms. “That’s how I know you’re going to be okay, Ben. Our love is powerful enough to bring us through anything,” he says, his blue eyes bright and determined as he takes my face in his hands. “We’re going to have an epic week together in the single nerdiest place on the planet, then we’re going to find you the best mental health professional we possibly can, and we’re going to live an incredible life together for the next 70 or 80 years. Sound good?” he asks, his eyes brimming with tears and water from the shower dripping from his dark black lashes.

“Sounds perfect,” I agree. I lift a hand to his face and press my lips against his gently. His arms wrap around my neck, pulling us more closely together as our mouths move against one another. Arthur presses his tongue into my mouth and we languidly caress one another in a push and pull between our spaces, sometimes in mine, sometimes in his. Once again, we are throbbing with desire and I move my lips to his ear, “Can I, Art?”

He pulls back and looks into my eyes apologetically and says, “I don’t know if I can again yet, baby. I want to, but I think we should hold off until tonight or tomorrow morning.”

I breathe deeply and nod. “Are you okay? You’re not hurting, are you?” I ask, turning my focus to him and away from my own desire for him.

His eyebrows shoot up, “No, Ben. I’m fine, you always make sure of that. We just… we ate a few hours ago and we just… I don’t want to…” he trails off.

I smile and kiss him. “Of course, Art. That’s my bad. I’m sorry, I didn’t think,” I apologize, resting my forehead against his and running my hands down his arms gently.

“You never have to apologize for wanting me, Ben. Here, turn around,” he says softly, turning us and pressing me against the wall as he slides down to his knees. As he takes me into his mouth and makes sure I am completely satisfied, I say a silent prayer of thanks to the Universe. Once I’ve stopped trembling, I bring my soulmate up so he is standing and I take my time in making sure he is also satisfied.

We finally take a real shower, shampoo, conditioner, bodywash, the works, and get dressed for the plane. Art has on joggers, a Hamilton tee, and his Wesleyan quarter-zip, while I am sporting baggier sweats, a grey and lilac short-sleeve Henley, and my rainbow sleeved zip-up hoodie with ‘love is love’ in large pink script across the back. Our bags are already packed so we load up, make sure we have everything, lock up, and head out.

“Want me to drive?” I ask.

“Sure, thanks babe,” he says handing me the keys. “I am not used to driving so much anymore. It’s been a lot the last few days.”

“I know, I got it. You can nap on the way to La Guardia if you want,” I offer, starting the truck.

“I may do just that,” he says, leaning his seat back.

Our time in the airport is fairly uneventful (odd for us, I know) and we are on the plane to Florida before we know it. We watch an episode of Shadowhunters as we fly and doze off leaning on one another. We get off the plane in Orlando and pick up our one checked bag before we get on a shuttle that takes us to The Grand Floridian Resort at Walt Disney World.

It is dark and nearing midnight when we arrive. We are groggy and exhausted as we get checked into our hotel and make our way up to our room. We walk into our Villa and are greeted by light colors and warm woods, all perfectly placed to inspire complete relaxation. We are tired but we explore a little and I wander into the bathroom to find something I know we’ll love. “Hey babe,” I call and he comes around the corner to stand with me seeing the massive soaking tub.

He slides his arms around me and lays his head against my chest. “That looks glorious. Wanna get it running and we can soak for a bit before we head to bed?” he suggests.

“Sounds great,” I say, kissing him on top of his head and moving across the tile to sit on the side and start the water. Arthur heads back into the other room and I hear him unzipping our suitcase. We want to be settled into what is basically our house for the week. There’s a living room, bedroom with a king size bed, two full dressers, and a full kitchen. We are here for 6 days, we may as well settle in. Once the water is nice and hot, I see a small assortment of bath oils and bombs and choose some lavender scented items to drop into the water. As they bubble and fizz, I smile, satisfied, and walk out to help Arthur. Once we’ve finished, we peel out of our clothes on the way back to the bathroom. The tub is full, bubbly and steaming, and I step in and sit down then offer Arthur my hand as he lowers himself in front of me and settles against me between my legs. We soak quietly for a while until the water cools and I say we should get out. Arthur agrees, so we towel off and pull on pajama bottoms, setting the AC so that it’s cool but not freezing and go around shutting off the lights in the villa just like we do at home. I am lying in bed when Arthur comes back in from taking out his contacts and I open my arms to him. He crawls in against me and we curl together, both too tired to do more than cuddle. Arthur presses his face into the side of my neck and I lightly play with the hair at the back of his neck as we drift off to sleep.

“I love you,” he murmurs, tickling the skin of my neck with his breath.

“I love you,” I whisper into his hair.

For once in a very long time, we both sleep soundly all night long. Arthur’s alarm wakes us around 8 and we stretch and curl up around each other. We decided to take our first day and hang at the hotel. We didn’t want to pressure ourselves to get into the parks super early, so we figured we’d take a day and relax.

Arthur pushes up on his elbows and kisses me. “What’re you feelin’ for breakfast? Room service? The restaurant?”

“Definitely room service out on the patio,” I answer. He smiles and nods, leaning in for yet another kiss. He sits up and crosses his legs, pulling the menu out of the side table drawer. I curl around behind him, still lying on my side propped up on my elbow and look at the menu with him. We decide on waffles and bacon, and as Arthur calls to order, I gently run the backs of my fingers up and down his arm. When he’s ordered, he tells me, “It’ll be about 30 minutes.”

I grin and wrap my arms around him saying, “I have some ideas of what we can do with those.” I pull him down so that he is lying next to me and lean in, kissing him deeply as I trail a hand down his chest, over his abs, to the waistband of his joggers. As I continue kissing him, I gently untie the drawstring as Arthur’s breath hitches and I have almost made it to my destination. When I slide my hand beneath his joggers, under which he is not wearing anything, he is beginning to grow firm as I press my hand around him and he moans into my kiss. I kiss my way down his jaw and begin to work at his neck with my lips as my thumb presses in small circles around his most sensitive spot. I lick and suck at his neck as he gasps my name on his short breaths. “Mmm, my favorite early morning snack,” I purr against his skin. He is grasping at my back and I move over him, kissing down his chest and move the joggers out of my way as I continue to rub him down while I set my tongue to lapping him up as he moans and spills for me. Once I am done and have cleaned up after myself, I replace his joggers where I found them and lift my face back toward his and kiss his neck again.

“I love how you love me, Ben,” he breathes in my ear.

I run a hand up his stomach and chest as I say, “Loving you is my favorite thing in the world to do, Arthur.” I kiss his cheek and lightly drag my nose up to nuzzle against his. “And experiencing you loving me ties for first of my favorite things, my love.”

He lifts up and takes my chin in his hand, running the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip and brushing the last of himself away with it, then lifts up and kisses me, luring me in with his softness, coaxing me to settle down against him. He gently pulls his lips from mine and wraps his arms around me as I let out a sigh and listen to his gentle heartbeat against my ear. We lie there, quietly enjoying one another’s presence until a soft knock sounds at the door.

“I’ll get the food if you want to go rinse out your mouth, babe,” he says with a kiss to my cheek and a wink as I roll over off of him. He puts on his glasses and pulls on a t-shirt on his way to the door.

I grab a t-shirt for myself and head to the bathroom to swish some water around in my mouth and run a hand through my hair. I give myself a cursory check in the mirror and see my eyes are bright and there’s a slight flush to my cheeks under my freckles. I look healthier than I have in months. No bags under my eyes, no panicked look on my face, just happy and healthy and wildly satisfied. I smile and it’s odd to see the expression on my own face, though I know I smile around Arthur most of the time, I don’t see myself do it. It’s nice to know that I do actually look happy, because he makes me so incredibly happy.

**Arthur**

Ben comes out of the bathroom and I have set up breakfast on the table on the patio. He comes to me and kisses my forehead. “Thanks babe.”

“My pleasure,” I say as we sit. We eat and discuss our leisurely plans for the day as we look out over the lake. “We have a couple’s massage at 10 and then we have the day to do with as we will. I thought maybe a light lunch at the café and then the afternoon at the pool. We have the Chef’s Table dinner tonight at Victoria & Albert’s which we have to get dressed up for.”

Ben wrinkles his nose and laughs. “That sounds fun, if not a little stuffy. I’m sure it’ll be delicious.” He leans over and kisses me, tasting of syrup and bacon. “I’m really excited for that massage, though.” He smiles, going back to his breakfast.

“I think we could both definitely use it,” I agree with a smile.

We get ready in loose basketball shorts and flip flops. I am wearing a Dear Evan Hansen “You Will Be Found” tank and Ben is literally making me drool in a tight plain black tank-top. He has on his black Oakley’s and I’m wearing my Ray-Ban’s. When he comes out of the bathroom wiping his hands with a hand towel after perfectly tousling his hair with pomade, I bite my lip and groan as I wrap my arms around him.

“You should be locked up if you’re going to look this damn good,” I say.

“Why thank you, you’re looking pretty irresistible yourself, sir,” he says in my ear, wrapping his arms around my neck and planting a kiss on my cheek. “Let’s go, before I absolutely must have you **again** ,” he says quietly, smiling as he takes my hand, makes sure we both have a room key, our wallets, and our phones, and then we head out across the courtyard to the spa.

When we check in, under Ben and Arthur Alejo, I blush profusely as I beam at the chance to claim him as my husband and use our last name. We are given a choice of lemon cucumber water or berry infused water and we both go for berry. A concierge directs us to a very plush waiting room where we take a seat on an oversized white couch. Ben drapes an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side, lightly brushing his fingertips along my upper arm. “You’re right,” he says into my ear. “That was very cool using our married name.” He presses his lips to my cheek for a long moment and I sigh serenely. I am completely blissed out and cannot imagine feeling any more amazing than I do right now, Ben wrapped around me, relishing in the simple fact of being married. Two muscular young women come out, one has a Southeast Asian complexion and the other is a sporty looking black girl, and they greet us. Janicia is the black girl who smiles warmly and says she’ll be taking care of me, and Chantrea is the other young woman, whose accent is clearly Indian; she’ll be taking care of Ben. They lead us to a room with two massage tables pushed close together and a set of lockers stacked one on top of the other saying we can get as undressed as we like and leave our items in a locker.

“We’ll be back in just a few minutes, you can get under the top sheet lying face down,” Chantrea tells us. We nod and they leave the room.

We strip and pile our clothes in one locker, leaving on only our rings. I smile at Ben and lift up to kiss him before we climb onto the tables and squeeze his butt. He gasps in surprise and I wink at him as I saunter to the other side of the room.

“You had better believe I’ll get you back for that Arthur James Alejo,” Ben smirks as he shakes his head and climbs under the sheet.

“Looking forward to it,” I say as I lie face down on the table. Ben slides his fingers into mine and I turn my head resting it on the side of the headrest to look at him. He is looking at me and smiling. “I love seeing you so happy and relaxed,” I say quietly.

“It’s a feeling I’ve missed, but it’s nice to have it back. I love getting this time with you, away from work and adulting.” He squeezes my hand and I gently brush my thumb along his.

The girls come back in then and they have quiet conversations with us about where we hold our stress. Ben is sure to tell Chantrea about his knee and how it gets sore and tense. Then they get to work, pressing their strong palms along the long tense muscles of our backs and working out from the center down our arms. They talk to us quietly asking about our wedding and how we met. They leave our hands intertwined between us as they work their way down our bodies and as Chantrea works around Ben’s knee, he stops talking and squeezes my hand tightly. She doesn’t linger long there and I know I’ll be making up for it later, which I’m perfectly happy to do. Once our hour is up, they leave us with fresh berry waters and tell us to take our time getting dressed. We sit up and walk to the locker, and I can tell Ben is limping just a little.

When we’re dressed, I say, “Here, sit down, let me take care of that.” I get a small pump of the lotion the girls used on us and sit in the chair Chantrea was using as Ben sits on the side of the table. With practiced hands, I work out the tension in Ben’s leg until he is no longer in pain. “Between dancing at the wedding and being on a cramped airplane, you must have been pretty sore,” I say as I finish up, rubbing the last of the lotion into my hands.

He shrugs but the relief in his eyes is noticeable. “Thank you, Art. That’s so much better.”

I stand and kiss him softly. “Anytime, love.”

We lace our hands together and head out, going to the Grand Floridian Café in the main building of the hotel to have our light lunch before heading to the room to change into our swim trunks. In the course of our changing, me into bright blue trunks with hibiscus flowers on them and Ben into horizontal striped rainbow trunks, I simply can’t take it anymore. I tug a slightly surprised Ben over to the couch in the living area and drink him dry, being unable to keep my hands and lips off of him any longer. As I am replacing his swim trunks back up across his hips, he smiles languidly and pulls me up to sit next to him.

“That was amazing, baby,” he tells me, kissing me on the shoulder and holding me from the side.

I turn my head and my forehead fits perfectly against his. “Couldn’t help myself. You looked too delicious,” I say with a smirk and he kisses me on my lips which are still a little sticky from him. 

“How do we go back to being regular human beings after this week? Being able to have you whenever I want is definitely something I could get used to…” Ben muses.

“We can still have each other whenever we want as long as we’re home and no one else is there,” I chuckle.

“This is true,” he smiles and kisses me again. “Pool time?”

“Pool time,” I agree, and we grab our small collection of pool supplies. Wallets/phones/air pods/keycards in a bag that locks onto a chair. We grab sunscreen and sunglasses and head out. We reserved one of those cabanas, so we ask a staff member and he leads us to the one we’ll be using and asks if he can get us any drinks. I order a daquiri and Ben gets a rum and Coke. We strip off our shirts and I grab the sunscreen, sitting on one side of the conjoined chaise lounge chair beginning to spray my chest and arms, and Ben crawls across the cushions and kisses my neck.

“Allow me,” he says, grabbing the can of sunscreen. He sprays my back and rubs it in a little more slowly than strictly necessary. He sprays more on my neck and massages it gently around my ears and hands me the can to get my face and legs.

“My turn,” I say, making him turn around and offering him a similar treatment.

We lock the bag to our chaise as our drinks arrive and we go take a dip in the pool to cool off just for a few minutes. When I pop up out of the water, Ben puts his arms around me and kisses me. We float for a bit, treading water together and then get out to lay in our cabana. We share a pair of airpods and listen to our “Chillin’ at home” playlist while I lie on my stomach, resting my head on my arms as I read and he lies on his back resting his head on his interlocked fingers, dozing off in the Floridian heat.

We sip away the afternoon, go back in the pool a couple of times, and doze off on the chaise for a little while together late in the afternoon, my head on Ben’s shoulder. When I wake, the sun is staring straight at us as it heads toward the horizon and we’ve both begun to get a little pink. I’m thanking everything there is that we have a bottle of aloe back in the room. I turn and Ben’s skin is golden with his Puerto Rican genes soaking up every drop of sunlight to give him that perfectly tanned look. I will inherently be a lobster by the end of the week, but Ben will be sun-kissed and even more gorgeous than he is already. I shake my head at the thought as I plant a kiss on the tip of his nose. His eyes flutter open and he smiles as he stretches.

“Hey there,” he groans as he blinks sleep from his eyes.

“Hey, we’re getting a little toasty. Wanna head back and shower, get ready for dinner?” I ask, weaving one hand up into his hair and lightly playing with it.

“Mmmhmm,” he agrees, pressing a kiss to my lips before we both sit up.

My chest and arms are, indeed, a little burnt, so Ben helps me put aloe on them after we get out of the shower. We dress in slacks, button downs, and suitcoats. I am in black pants, a maroon jacket over a white shirt, and a black skinny tie. Ben is in those charcoal pants that do all of the things for his butt and a matching jacket over an aqua shirt with no tie. He’s left the top button open and is carefully shaping his hair in the vanity mirror. I sit on the edge of the bed watching him until he’s satisfied and turns around. He smirks and comes over to me. He brushes his thumb across my lip loosing it from between my teeth. I didn’t even realize I had been biting it, so I blush slightly as I stand and gaze into his eyes. His arms encircle my waist and I grab his lapels gently, bringing him down to me for a kiss.

“Lookin good, handsome,” I say against his lips.

“You look incredible, Art,” he says softly, brushing his nose against mine. He kisses me again lightly and then we head out.

When we get to the restaurant and check in with the maître d’, we are led to a table which looks in on the kitchen. It is a small table, set just for us two, with red and white roses in a skinny vase and two tall white candles settling a soft glow over the whole thing.

**Ben**

We eat and we talk with the chef about our meal as he brings us special courses that he’s designed just for us. As we await the next course and sip our wine, I hold out my hand in a silent request. Arthur smiles and lightly settles his hand into my grip.

“How’s the sunburn?” I ask, brushing my thumb lightly over his knuckles.

“Fine, for now. I can’t really tell if I’m all warm from it, the wine, or both,” he chuckles, sipping his Moscato again. “How are you doing?” he asks, setting his wine glass back on the table.

His concern, as always, fills me with the overwhelming love we share, but also an undercurrent of guilt. I hate that he always feels like he has to worry about me. “I am so good, babe. I’m really excited for the parks. Today was perfect, though, just relaxing together. It was the perfect way to start our trip,” I assure him, bringing his fingers to my lips.

I can see his unease clear from his gaze and the lightness we’d been sharing return. I really am fine. With the wedding now residing as an amazing memory which is firmly over and done with, I can love every second we spent together with our friends and family. We really did throw an incredible party and celebration of our relationship and I loved every minute of the ceremony. It was perfectly us and showcased everything we love about each other, ourselves, and our life together.

The chef brings out our dessert: tiramisu with a special hazelnut coffee powder topping. Dylan would be so jealous. As Arthur slides his cream laden fork into his mouth, his eyes flutter closed the same way they do when we make love and I smile.

“That’s a familiar face. That good?” I ask, smirking.

“Mmmhm,” he nods, not opening his eyes as he swallows.

I taste the delectable dish and decide that some things are indeed almost as good as sex. When we get back to our room, we take another bath together and remind each other what our real favorite desserts are. After having claimed one another in a flurry of heat and passion, as we lie in bed together, I lay light kisses across Arthur’s sun-warmed shoulder and whisper, “I love you, my mighty Arturo.”

“I love you, Ben,” he returns, settling back in against me more solidly.

I hold him tightly to me and nuzzle my nose around his ear as he drifts off to sleep. Holding the whole of my world in my arms, I fall asleep soundly and do not rouse until I feel him trying to wriggle from my grasp and when I open my eyes, the sun is shining through the crack in the curtains. I loosen my arms to allow his movement and he rolls over pulling me into his own arms, encasing my torso and pressing me against him.

“Good morning, my love,” I say, returning his embrace, careful not to agitate his already sensitive skin.

“Mornin’,” he mumbles against my chest where he has buried his face.

“You ready for this?” I ask excitedly.

He looks up into my eyes and grins, “So ready.”

Monday, we went to Universal and spent most of our day in Harry Potter World. We started on Islands of Adventure and hit The Hulk and Superhero Island, but then mostly explored Hogsmeade. We watched Olivander select a young child out of the crowd to be chosen for the wand, and then buy our own. I, obviously, wanted the wand that fit my birthday, but Arthur really loves the Elder Wand, so he got a replica of that. The wand I chose was one of the interactive ones, so we made sure to hit all of the interactive spots and really get our wizard on. We also each got our house t-shirts, Ravenclaw for Arthur, Gryffindor for me. The castle ride was our favorite part, and we definitely rode it twice before we had lunch in the Three Broomsticks and then headed out to Diagon Alley on the Hogwarts Express. I may have geeked out a little extra hard at the awesome projections in the windows on the train and really wished I could buy something from the lady with the trolley. When we got to King’s Cross and into Diagon Alley, we went to Florean Fortescue’s and had Mint swirled ice cream while we watched and waited for the dragon atop Gringotts to spit his fire. Then, we rode the Gringotts ride, which was AWESOME. We did some shopping and had dinner at the Leaky Cauldron before heading out the hidden entrance and riding The Mummy, Jimmy Fallon (Arthur may have squeaked when Lin-Manuel’s spot on Jimmy’s show came on in the line as we waited), and Transformers. I was very intrigued by all of the design elements. Having never been to a theme park in my life, Arthur noted that I looked like a wide-eyed child as he smiled at my unchecked awe and wonder. Sometimes he’d just stop and kiss me saying, “I just couldn’t help it, you looked too cute.” We took a ridiculous number of selfies in front of all the things, and a few random fellow tourists took pictures for us in front of Grimmauld Place, Hogwarts, and Gringotts.

Around 9:30, as we sat on a patch of grass sharing a huge cup of lemonade and waiting for the fireworks show, Arthur rested back on his elbows and I laid with my head on his stomach. I bent my arm so I could slide my hand into his while looking up at him, and asked, “Did you have a good day?”

“It was amazing, Ben. This isn’t really my wheelhouse, the fantasy and the sci-fi, but I know how much you love it, and seeing you so happy and engaged was definitely a turn on,” he said, blushing a little. “I miss seeing you nerd out this hard, it’s very much a part of why I fell in love with you…” he admitted quietly, his eyes soft and glassy as he stared into mine.

I was unable to find the words to appropriately respond, so I sat up to face him fully, and he sat up with me expectantly. I hooked one finger in the collar of his baby blue Dear Evan Hansen t-shirt and pulled him to me until our lips met. I kissed him gently, having to force myself to remember we were very much in public, but when I did pull away, we were breathless and blushing. We barely got back into our room and got the door locked before I simply had to take him to bed and have my way with him.

Tuesday, we walked around Epcot and rode the couple of rides there were there, and then did lunch at the Mexican Restaurant themed for Coco. I loved seeing all of the Latin American influence and we each purchased a small sugar skull to match our personalities, then we headed to Hollywood Studios. We particularly loved spending time in Galaxy’s Edge and experiencing the immersive sights, sounds, and smells of this alien bazar. This day was full of a lot of rides which were amazing, but we were exhausted by the end of the day, so instead of eating dinner at the park, we headed back to the villa and ordered room service. We ate together and laid in bed watching a movie, falling asleep on one another before it was over.

Wednesday’s adventure was Animal Kingdom. We were especially excited for Pandora and it did not disappoint. The animatronics were incredible and Flight of Passage ties with the Hogwarts Castle ride as my favorite of our trip. We really loved the Lion King Spectacular and had a great time in the petting zoo as we let adorable animals eat from our hands before we headed to dinner. 

On our last full day, we’ve saved it for the best: Magic Kingdom. The shows and parades are amazing but the real cherry on top is the Happily Ever After Fireworks Show at the end of the night. Arthur and I got an amazing spot with a full view of the whole castle and all the turrets. As Jordan Fischer’s voice begins to trill from everywhere but nowhere discernable, I steal his rainbow Mickey ears, placing them on my own head and wrap my arms around Arthur’s shoulders, resting my head on top of his and he curls his hands around them, brushing his thumbs along my forearms gently. The whole of the Disney universe unfolds before us on the castle. All the big moments are there and we are both in awe. I hear Arthur gasp at the incredible images, and he sings along softly with his favorites, squeezing my arm tighter when he’s excited about what he’s seeing. As the spectacular comes to a close and the castle is being flooded in a rainbow of colors, he turns around and wraps his arms around my neck. The fireworks explode in fountains of color reflected in his electric blue eyes and not kissing him is not an option. I pull him close and we lose ourselves in one another as the crowd applauds at the finale of fireworks and images projected onto the castle. Arthur and I are in another world with only each other, holding on for dear life as we attempt to infuse this moment with all of the love and joy and excitement of the past week. When we break apart, more for air than any possible desire to be separated, he smiles widely at me. “This has been the best week, Ben. I love you so much.” He snags his ears back off of my head and tilts them artfully back on his own.

“And I love you Arthur. Definitely the best honeymoon ever.” I kiss him again, light and short this time.

With our last night of honeymoon bliss, we decidedly go out with a ‘bang’ and use our time well. We get up early the next morning and pack up before taking the shuttle to the airport and flying home. We are dropped off by the lift late that night and once we heft all of our things back into the apartment, Arthur is sitting on one of the stools by the peninsula. I walk to him and he stands so we can wrap our arms around each other tightly. “We’re home,” he breathes into my chest.

I smile and nod into his hair. “We’re home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I know it was long, but you made it! Your time is appreciated, and if you have a few more seconds, please review/comment! I'd love to know what you think!


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